Resolution
by Fingersnaps
Summary: A figure from Tim's past has been biding his time, waiting to strike back at the man he blames for his incarceration. Will Landon Grey's New Year Resolution come true?    This story follows on from a drabble called Alone...
1. Chapter 1

6

**Resolution**

Gibbs threw a dust sheet over the almost completed rocking horse; he'd have finished it today but the unexpectedly sunny January morning had lured him outside. He had done some yard work and as he put the tools back in the garage he had felt the quiet satisfaction that comes from good, hard, physical labour. After lunch he headed down to the basement, and as ever he lost himself in the wood, working the timber soothed him like nothing else could, and this project was extra special, it would be Amira's first birthday without her Grandpa, and Gibbs wanted to show her how much she was still loved.

Gibbs gathered up his empty coffee mugs and started up the stairs; the team didn't always get the luxury of a weekend off, so he intended to make best use of this one. So long as he didn't get tempted by outside work again tomorrow the horse should be ready for painting by the afternoon, giving ample time for the drying and varnishing process before he needed to deliver the gift. It was dark out and Gibbs got a surprise when he checked the time; 22.15, he really did lose all track of time when he was working the wood. His phone sent out its shrill tone, demanding a reply; they weren't on call, but Gibbs was a great believer in following his own rules, most of the time; he was usually reachable, especially if a member of his team needed him, he checked caller ID, Tony.

"Gibbs." There was a slight hesitation at the other end of the line. "Tony, you okay?"

"Me? Yeah…Boss, it's not serious, I mean the doc says he's going to be okay…no nerve or bone damage, through and through, right arm..."

"Tony, take a breath, tell me what happened."

"Boss, Tim's been shot; we were walking back to the car after dinner, he called out, pushed me, I...I fell, then Tim was on the ground, and there was blood..."

"Where were you Tony?"

"DC Coast on K Street North West; Metro PD are at the scene."

"I'll call Ziva; this is now our case."

Gibbs made one more call before he headed out to K Street; he wanted Vance to know about the shooting, and to be ready if Metro decided to raise any objections to losing jurisdiction. Gibbs gripped the steering wheel tight as he drove the short distance; someone had taken a shot at one of his people, and that made it personal.

He pulled up next to a Metro PD cruiser and wasn't surprised to see that Ziva had beaten him to the scene.

"Gibbs, have you heard anything more from Tony?"

"Tim's in surgery, just to clear up the wound Tony says; he'll call us when there's more news. Let's see what Metro has for us."

Gibbs felt a shiver run through him when he saw the blood on the sidewalk; it was one thing to face danger and the possibility of death every day they went to work, but for this to happen when they were off duty, not on call, not even involved in a case...

"You must be Agent Gibbs, my Captain called to say you were taking over. I'm Sergeant Hudson and this is Officer Delgado."

Gibbs shook hands with both men. "I'm Gibbs; Agent David…you have anything for us?"

"There are three eyewitnesses; they all heard the shot, Agent McGee call out, they saw him push his friend to one side, saw him fall but none of them saw the shooter."

"You find the bullet?"

"Delgado found it in the wall of the bank behind you. It's pretty beat up, but your forensics people may be able to find something."

Gibbs glanced at Ziva and gave a small smile. "Oh believe me, if there's anything to be found, our forensic scientist will find it."

"Agent DiNozzo? Agent McGee is out of recovery, would you like to see him?"

Tony grinned. "Try stopping me!"

Like many women, and some men before her, Nurse Silva found it impossible to resist Tony's smile. "You're not supposed to stay too long, but if you're quiet I'm pretty sure no one will kick you out."

With a new spring in his step Tony followed the nurse to Tim's room.

"Go right ahead, he's still a little out of it from the anaesthesia, but I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."

Gibbs took the evidence bag from Officer Delgado and stared at the mangled metal inside the clear plastic case enclosed inside. He could picture Abby's reaction when she heard about Tim, but he knew once she'd had her meltdown she would be determined to find out everything she could.

He looked up and down the street, searching with a sniper's eye. If the eye-witnesses hadn't seen a shooter he wasn't likely to be at ground level, just one shot fired...this was looking less and less likely to be a random shooting.

"Do you think whoever did this had targeted Tony or McGee?"

"If they did, they're going to regret it. I need to talk with McGee, he saw something..." He was interrupted by the shrill ring-tone of his cell. "Hey Tony, how's he doing?"

"Good Boss, they want to keep him in overnight, but the doc says he should be okay to go home tomorrow."

"Is he up to answering some questions?"

"Maybe...he was talking crazy, the meds I guess; he's got himself convinced someone's after me, and he wanted you on protection detail."

"Don't be so fast to dismiss the notion Tony; until we know more I'm not ruling anything out. I'm on my way to the hospital right now, are you staying with Tim?"

"Got no place else to be Boss."

There was nothing more that could be done at the crime scene until the morning, then Gibbs would have a team searching the rooftops, so he sent Ziva to NCIS with the scant evidence they had and with instructions to call Abby.

"Be sure she knows from the get-go that Tim is fine; I want her working on the ballistics, not racing over to the hospital to give Tim a hug."

"I will do my best Gibbs. Do you want me to start looking at potential suspects?"

"Sooner the better, it'll likely be a long list; we've put a lot of people away, and pissed-off plenty more."

"Especially Tony, there are times when he can be..."

"Yeah, I know."

Gibbs hadn't broken any speed limits getting to George Washington University Hospital; he wanted a little time to think before he faced Tony and Tim. Could Tim be right about a threat to Tony? Even in his morphine fuelled ramblings there could be a grain of truth in the idea; wouldn't be the first time that Tony had been the target of someone from his very colourful past. No call to set up protection details right now, Gibbs wouldn't be leaving the hospital until he'd spoken to Tim, and he knew Tony wouldn't be going anywhere either, so he'd be well able to keep watch on the two of them.

Gibbs' badge was enough to get him into Tim's room, but only after he'd promised the doctor that he wouldn't pressure Tim into answering any questions.

"His injury may not be as severe as some you have seen Agent Gibbs, but a bullet has ripped through his arm, and he's had general anaesthesia, let him wake in his own time."

"Not a problem, I've got all night."

"Hey Boss, he's been sleeping about thirty minutes."

"Don't worry Tony, I won't wake him."

Gibbs handed Tony the coffee he'd brought with him and took his first look at Tim. He was pale, but not much more so than usual, his right arm was encased in a dressing from shoulder to elbow, and there was an IV attached to his right hand. It wasn't the first time Gibbs had seen one of his team in the hospital, likely wouldn't be the last; yet for some reason he'd never expected to see Tim like this. He was a good field agent, Gibbs wouldn't accept anything less, but Tim was primarily the computer guy, the man who could run the searches Gibbs wanted before Gibbs even knew he wanted them.

"He pushed me aside Boss, I didn't see…whatever he saw. If he hadn't, I could be…"

"No second guesses Tony; let's not waste energy on what might have been. We need to focus on who did this, and why." There was a slight movement from the sleeping figure. Gibbs cursed silently, he'd promised not to wake him.

"Boss…that you?"

"It is Tim, how are you doing?"

"Okay…I think, arm's sore…"

"Yeah, a bullet will do that."

Tim smiled in agreement, then turned to the other occupant of the room. "You have to watch out for Tony Boss...I should get up...wasting time...get to work, look into old cases..." He tried to sit up, but Tony applied gentle pressure to his uninjured arm.

"You're going nowhere Tim, not tonight."

"Boss, he shouldn't be here...safe house...your place...not here..."

"Settle down Tim, I'll be watching out for Tony; you too."

Tim blinked in surprise. "Me? No need to watch me, rifle was pointing at Tony."

Gibbs leaned closer, looked into Tim's eyes and laid the back of his hand on Tim's forehead, he didn't seem to be feverish, but Gibbs had to be sure. "Tim, listen to me, it was dark..."

"I know, but...I can't explain it Boss, when we came out of the restaurant...something...I felt like someone was watching...then we crossed the road and I looked up; there was light on metal, too long for a hand gun...pointed right at Tony...it all happened so fast Boss but I did see it...please Boss, look out for Tony..."

Tim tried to stay awake a little longer, he had to be sure Gibbs understood the urgency of the situation, but his eyelids felt so heavy, and the ache in his arm was fading...they definitely had him on the good meds...

Landon Grey could barely hold the pen; his hands were shaking with the anger he'd had to keep inside ever since Jeanette's visit this afternoon. McGee was still alive; the gunman had missed his target...as good as missed. Jeanette had seen McGee walk out of the hospital yesterday morning, Landon breathed deep...he needed to stay calm, but more than that he needed McGee to be dead. Each night it was getting harder and harder to rest easy knowing that McGee was going on with his life, moving on from the deaths of Cove and Corbett as he never could, not so long as he was locked up in here and McGee was free, and breathing...

His new journal was lying unopened on the bed, the ritual of writing every day had continued into this new year, he was careful that nothing incriminating found its way onto the pages. Landon sighed as he remembered the panic he had felt when he realised what could have happened if the guards had found the final entry in last year's journal. He had woken early on the first morning of 2012, and in the pitch dark of his cell he'd torn out the offending page, painstakingly ripped it into shreds and during the course of the day the tiny pieces had been flushed down the toilet.

From that day to this he had been much more circumspect; he opened the journal at the first clear page and started to write.

_January 30 2012_

_Had a visit from Jeanette today, seeing my sister usually brings some light into my dark existence, but today she had news that is sure to cause problems in my therapy. Doctor Mowbray will notice tomorrow, he's very astute. I must be open with him; it's the only way I can make progress, maybe get parole one day. So I will tell him truthfully, a plan I had in place to make my life less bleak has suffered a setback, but there is hope that this is only a temporary problem, I have been patient for so long, I can wait._


	2. Chapter 2

_February 29_

_It seems strange to write that date, it only comes round every four years, but I wonder how many times will I write it before I'm free of this place? They put me away for the rest of my life, but because they said I was delusional the judge didn't take parole off the table. If I can continue to progress with Doctor Mowbray, and show that I feel genuine remorse for taking the lives of two blameless individuals, one day maybe years from now, I'll be able to walk out of here and breathe the air that free men breathe._

_For so long in my mixed-up head, it felt like I'd been the victim of a miscarriage of justice, it had been my honest belief that Cameron Mayer and Jared Brenner were planning to kill Agent McGregor; how could I have been so wrong? I was crazy...but they tried me just the same, said it was temporary, they were right too._

_I'm getting better, some days are tougher than others, but I'm starting to feel that my life is going to turn around. I have a woman who loves me and visits me as often as she can, and even though my parents have disowned me, my sister has been a constant support, she visits every week and gives me news of life outside these walls, and today there was good news._

Landon closed his journal and almost immediately the lights went out, he stretched out on the bunk with a contented sigh. Things were moving again; it had been tough for a few days after hearing about the unsuccessful attempt on McGee's life. He had pinned so many hopes and dreams on hearing that McGee was dead, it took all of his willpower not to break down during Jeanette's visit, he wanted to scream out loud at the injustice, McGreg...no, stop that, McGee was still alive, walking wounded they called it, how was it possible he wasn't even hurt bad enough to spend a few days in the hospital?

He could feel his breath starting to come in short gasps, so Landon made a conscious effort to calm down, think of someone else, someone who had come into his life in the most unexpected way possible. Sweet, unsuspecting Melissa, she had followed his case online and somehow, Landon could never work out how, she'd come to the conclusion that he was innocent, the victim of a plot to cover up the fact that a Federal Agent was culpable in the deaths of two men.

She had written to him, and at first he had ignored the letters, the last thing he wanted was another complication in his life, but she'd been persistent, so he'd replied and things had progressed from there. After a few months Melissa had come to visit, she was nothing much to look at, slightly overweight, pale, mousy, but she had kind eyes, and when she talked with him her face became animated...almost pretty. Best of all, and this came like a bolt out of the blue, she had money, lots of it; and she was willing to give him whatever he asked for. In the early days of their relationship he'd asked for nothing, but her offer to put money in his sister's bank account so that he could use it for any future appeals he might make had sowed the seed of the plan that had kept him from going under. With money in the bank and an ever-growing group of friends inside who had very useful contacts on the outside; for the first time since his arrest Landon Grey was in a position to do something about getting rid of Timothy McGee once and for all.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

_March 1_

"How was it Tim?" Tony had been on tenterhooks all morning waiting to hear whether Tim had been cleared for a full return to field duty.

"Doc says I'm good to go; starting Monday I'm back in the field."

Ziva hurried over and kissed Tim on the cheek. "That is wonderful news McGee, we have missed you."

Tim blushed as he made his way to his desk. "I've been around every day Ziva."

"At your desk, that is not the same as being with us in the field, the other agents who helped us have been...adequate, but we are a team, and we belong together."

Tony grinned his agreement. "Amen to that Ziva, and just to prove how pleased I am the drinks are on me tomorrow night."

They'd been getting together for drinks at the end of the working week every Friday since the shooting. It had started as a way to unwind after the almost unbearable tension of the first few days of the investigation. Tim had insisted on going in to work the day after his release from the hospital, still convinced that Tony was the target of an unknown and dangerous opponent. Ducky kept a careful watch on him and he was ordered home early on the first two days; after that he dug in his heels and stayed as long as everyone else. By the time Friday evening rolled round Tim looked exhausted, and he wasn't the only one.

It had been a frustrating week, Abby identified the slug as a .30 Carbine, possibly fired from a M1 Carbine rifle; the rooftop gave them nothing. Tim went back to the scene, accompanied by Ziva and Gibbs and pointed out the exact location of the shooter, whoever he was he'd policed his brass; there was no physical evidence of any kind. Security cameras hadn't helped, the images they could work with had given them nothing but wasted hours talking to people who couldn't possibly have been on the roof when Tim was shot.

So Gibbs had called a halt that Friday night and they'd all gone to Ducky's place for drinks, Gibbs wasn't ready to have Tony and Tim out in public if they didn't have to be. They'd relaxed for the first time in days and when Tim started to fall asleep on Ducky's couch he'd been bundled off to bed in the guest room with orders to sleep for at least twelve hours.

He didn't quite manage twelve, but Tim did get eight hours uninterrupted sleep, and he looked much better when he woke up that Saturday morning. Gibbs ensured the team worked minimum hours over the weekend; truth was they had nothing much to work on. They'd interviewed what seemed like hundreds of people, cons, ex-cons, family members of victims and prisoners; some of them didn't even remember Tony, which caused him a momentary pang, but no one seemed to want him dead. Tim's background searches confirmed alibis, discovered no financial transactions that were out of the ordinary; he'd baulked at Gibbs' request that he look into the people he had helped put away.

"Boss, I keep telling you, I'm not like you guys. Every bit of meaningful law enforcement experience I've had has been on your team, I don't think I've ever pissed anyone off the way Tony has."

"Gee thanks McSnarky."

"You know what I mean Tony, just look at the list of people you've put away, right back to your time in Peoria, I don't have your history, everyone I've seen go down has been as part of this team, not likely anyone's looking for payback for something the geek did."

Gibbs wasn't so sure, but before he had the chance to do anything to allay his doubts, the whole agency was put on high alert. A credible terrorist threat had been uncovered by the NSA, and every armed Federal Agency worked round the clock for days until arrests were made, and the threat level was downgraded.

Since then the MCRT had been kept busy as a long and involved kidnap case was followed by the murder of a Navy Commander on temporary assignment with the DoD. His security clearance was at the highest level, and it had been the kind of case that had Gibbs' very limited patience stretched to its limits. They were getting stonewalled at every turn, and it took all of Tim's skills to get them the information they needed to find the killer.

Things hadn't quietened down much since then; Tim's wound healed in its own time as these things do, and despite his growing frustration at being desk-bound Ducky had insisted that Tim would not set foot in the field until cleared by the agency doctor. The wait had seemed endless to Tim, as soon as he was given permission to stop wearing a sling he'd wanted to get back to work in the fullest sense, but Ducky wasn't having it.

"Timothy, it is just two weeks since the shooting, your arm is not fully healed."

Tim opened his mouth to protest.

"Don't try and tell me you're not in pain young man, I may be getting on in years, but my eyesight hasn't deteriorated to that extent. Give yourself time to heal, another week or two, and if all goes well, you will be able to return to field duties."

Ducky had been pretty accurate in his estimate, and just over four weeks after the shooting the mood in the squad room was lighter than it had been in weeks.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

_March 2_

It was late by the time work was finished for the day, but Tony insisted on making good his promise. Come Monday the team would be back together and he had no intention of letting the opportunity for a celebration drink pass by.

"Come on guys, you can all sleep in tomorrow, just one drink."

"Okay Tony, but don't forget…"

"I'm paying Boss, no problema!"

"Then let us go Tony, before Saturday arrives!" Ziva linked her arm through Tim's and Abby followed suit on his left hand side.

Grinning like the cat that got the cream Tim led the way to the elevator. It would be good to forget everything for an hour or so, then when he got home he could do a little more work on Tony's old cases, there had to be something he'd missed. Every spare minute he'd managed to spend at home in the last few weeks had found him at his computer, digging deep into Tony's career. He hadn't come up with anything so far, but he was sure if he kept working at it, he'd be able to give Gibbs something that would lead to the man behind the rifle.

So much had been going on in the last four weeks that the shooting seemed to have faded into the background; yet Tim couldn't help feeling Tony wasn't safe, and he didn't like that feeling, not one bit.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim spent most of Saturday doing chores, checking up on emails from friends, and continuing his online searches. He couldn't shake a feeling of unease, it felt like there was something there, just out of reach and he was getting increasingly frustrated as the day progressed. As he logged off from another abortive session at his computer Tim stretched out and sighed deeply. This really wasn't getting him anything, other than tight muscles and eye strain; he picked up his phone and made a call.

"Hey Abs, are you still working on that housing project with Habitat for Humanity?"

"You better believe it Tim, seems like every time we make some progress we hit another problem. Tomorrow I'm helping Carlo with the electrics."

"I was thinking...could you use another pair of hands?"

Abby's excited squeal had him holding the phone a little further from his ear.

"Always Timmy; are you sure you're it won't be too much?"

"I figure if the doc says I'm fit enough to chase a perp with a gun, I can be trusted with some solder."

"Just so long as you don't overdo things."

"I won't Abs, truth be told, I could use a change of scene, concentrate on something other than old case files."

Her voice was suddenly stern. "There's time enough for that in the working week Tim, no need to use your day off."

"I know Abs, it's just...something's not right and I can't figure it out."

"So you're giving that mega-brain of yours a day off, sounds like a great plan, and Tim..."

"Yes Abby, I'll call at the bakery and get pastries for everyone."

_Monday March 5_

Tim had enjoyed his shift with Carlo and Abby, and meeting up again with some of the people he hadn't seen in an age had given an added spark to the day. He'd left them with a promise that he would join them again the following Sunday, and that he'd collect another batch of pastries from the Italian bakery a few blocks from his apartment.

"Good morning McGee, I have a welcome back coffee for you."

"Morning Ziva, and thanks, it feels great to be ready for the field."

"Good to hear Tim; road trip people, we have a dead Marine in XXXX, grab your gear!"

_Thursday March 8_

_Best laid plans...they don't always work out the way you want, and it can be difficult to deal with setbacks, but I'm staying strong, and with the love and support of the two women who mean everything to me I know I will have the strength to face whatever the future brings._

_I was angry with Doctor Mowbray today, and I said things to him that were uncalled for, he said he understood and I think he does...he knows I can't tell anyone else my true feelings. Melissa and Jennifer visit, I try to show them I'm doing well, getting through the interminable days the best way I know how. Melissa remains determined to prove my innocence, and I try so hard not to raise her hopes, the lawyers are working to see if there are grounds for an appeal. I pray they'll find something, but deep down I think they're fighting a losing battle. Cove and Corbett died at my hands, at least I think they did; I mean, I held the weapon, but was it really me who killed them? Not the spaced-out individual who searched through McGee's trash for typewriter ribbons, but the part-time barista who was working so hard to finish his degree._

_Strange how it took my incarceration to complete my education, one thing I'm not short of in here is time, and that includes enough hours in the day to complete a degree, maybe more than one. I'm looking to start another course of study, not law; I've seen enough of the wrong side of the law. I've spoken to Dr Mowbray, and he says I have issues I still have to work through, but if I succeed, I'd like to take up psychology...watching my fellow inmates, it's given me the appetite to learn about what's happening inside their heads._

_Time to learn...time...endless hours stretching in front of me, I have to fill them with something; study is good, helps me to look forward, not back, mustn't look back, that's when I get angry. Look forward to the good things, Melissa's next visit; Jennifer's visit Monday, she promised me good news, something big happening on the weekend...just a few more days._

_Friday 9 March_

"I simply said we would have been back much sooner if you had let me drive."

"On hairpin bends with a sheer drop into a ravine? I don't have a death wish Ziva; what I do have is a hot date tomorrow night and I didn't want a hospital visit messing with my plans."

Tim glanced at Gibbs and they both shook their heads, Ziva and Tony had been bickering over who should drive most of the way home.

"Tony, I only let you drive because your hunch played out right, don't expect it to happen again anytime soon; next road trip I do the driving."

Tony grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way Boss, so long as you don't let McSnailspace take the wheel."

"Hey! What's wrong with my driving? Because I treat the rules of the road as rules and not just guidelines doesn't mean I can't burn rubber if necessary."

"Cool _Pirates of the Caribbean _reference Tim, but come on man, given the choice of drivers in the sedan today, you are way down the poll."

Gibbs gave one of his shrill whistles that were guaranteed to silence all conversation. "Enough people, you all have reports that need to be finished before we're done for the day. Take some time to relax at the weekend and on Monday, so long as we don't get another case we're going to start looking into Tim's cases."

"But Boss, I already told you..."

"I know what you told me, and I once told you, don't stop looking until you're satisfied; well I'm not satisfied and I won't be until we've checked every possible lead. Now, get to work."

_Sunday 11 March_

"Are you sure you don't need an ambulance?"

"No, I'm fine really, just a few scratches from the glass. Was anyone hurt?"

The Montgomery PD officer shook his head. "Thankfully no, one shot fired, we're searching all the buildings that overlook the street, but there's no sign of the shooter."

Tim sighed with relief, and gave a slight shiver.

"You certain about the ambulance?" Officer Morgensen had seen enough victims to know you couldn't always see the injuries that caused most problems.

"Yeah, just...well, close call hitting home I guess."

From the relative shelter of the bakery Tim looked at the Porsche parked outside, the windshield shattered where a bullet had pierced the glass. He held on tight to the keys in his hand, by such small margins we live or die, if he hadn't dropped the car keys…

There was a sudden burst of activity as the human whirlwind that was Abby hurtled toward Tim.

"Oh my God, oh my God …Tim. They didn't want to let me through but I showed them my ID…oh Tim, are you really okay? When I heard…I thought…"

Tim stood up and held out his arms. "See Abs, I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced, but she walked into his arms and held him tight. Ever since the heart-stopping moment when she'd called him to check he'd remembered the pastries the sound of breaking glass had been echoing in her head. She'd been terrified that he was hurt and just trying to be stoic. Now she could see him, and he didn't look so bad. Abby lifted her hand to touch his cheek.

"You should get these cuts looked at Tim, what if there's still glass in there."

"There's nothing Abs, I was lucky…real lucky." Tim led her to a table and sat down beside her. "I guess I should call Gibbs."

Abby squeezed his hands tight and nodded. He slipped the car keys in his pocket, took out his phone and selected Gibbs' number. Tim took a deep breath as he waited for the single word response he knew was coming.

"Gibbs."

"Boss...the shooting outside DC Coast; I think I was wrong about Tony being the target."


	4. Chapter 4

Tim had barely settled at his desk when the elevator doors pinged open and an uncharacteristically flustered Ducky hurried into the squad room.

"You should have called me earlier Jethro; now then Timothy, let me take a look at you."

"There was no need to ruin your Sunday Ducky. Boss, I told you I'm fine."

"Didn't notice you having time to get a medical degree Tim. I want to be sure, so humour me okay?"

Tim had no option but to follow Ducky down to Autopsy and submit to a comprehensive check-up.

"I'm not entirely happy about your blood pressure young man, but given the events of the morning it is perhaps to be expected. Try not to work too hard today; from what Jethro tells me you have been very lucky, let's not spoil the good fortune by overdoing things."

Tim jumped down from the autopsy table. "Going to be pretty much tied to my desk Ducky, lots of old case files to go through...again."

"So I understand, but this time you are looking from a new standpoint I believe."

"Yeah...It's a weird feeling; I mean it's not like I've never been shot at before, it's pretty much an occupational hazard, but this...knowing someone is out there waiting to put a bullet in me, can't get my head round that, even weirder is I don't know why."

The door swished open and Gibbs hurried in. "We're going to find out Tim, and when we do we're going to put the SOB away for a very long time, if he's lucky."

Tim didn't have to ask what would happen if the shooter was unlucky; one look at Gibbs' steely expression told him this guy had better not try to run, because if he did...

"What's the verdict Duck?"

"Timothy's blood pressure is a little high; he has a few superficial cuts, nothing that needs a stitch. Other than that, he's doing quite well under the circumstances." Ducky patted Tim on the shoulder. "You be careful young man, and do as Jethro says."

Tim smiled. "Don't I always?"

"Not always Tim, I seem to remember you disobeying a direct order once. Thanks Duck, come on Tim, let's get to work."

Tim was about to follow Gibbs when he caught sight of his reflection in one of the autopsy drawers; it wasn't the sight of his cuts that stopped him in his tracks, but a sudden thought.

"Boss, I think maybe I know where to start looking."

"Tell me."

Tim turned away from the cabinets. "You remember Ducky? When you told me it wasn't my fault Petty Officer Cove and Adrian Corbett died."

"I do remember, and it is as true now as it was then."

Tim shook his head. "Not sure I ever really believed it..." He looked Gibbs in the eye. "What if their families think I am to blame, you know how much it hurts to lose someone close, and revenge can be a powerful motive, maybe a family member has decided I should pay for what I did."

"You wrote a work of fiction Tim, what happened to those men, it was never on you."

"Always felt like it was; Adrian Corbett's son is growing up without a father because I was too lazy to come up with an original description of a character."

The head slap was gentle, but it still gave Tim the wake-up call Gibbs intended.

"This stops now, Landon Grey killed those two men, not you."

"I killed Lieutenant Benedict..."

It was said so quietly Gibbs wasn't sure he'd heard right. "Benedict? That was a righteous shooting Tim, you know that."

"But does his family know? I never even checked if he had children, or a brother..."

"Then we check now; Duck, you sure he's good to work?"

"Just as long as he doesn't overdo things, or forget to eat, yes he should be fine."

A brief nod from his boss had Tim heading up to the squad room to get started on the background checks. Gibbs smiled warmly at the ME.

"Thanks for coming in Duck, I didn't want him visiting a hospital, not today, too many opportunities..."

"I quite understand Jethro; will you be taking him to a safe house?"

"He can stay at my place tonight, and we'll weigh up our options tomorrow."

Ducky picked up his coat and smiled at Gibbs. "You know Timothy would be most welcome at my home for as long as you think necessary."

"That obvious huh?"

"Only to an old friend. I'm taking Jordan to dinner this evening, but call me at any time if you need me."

"Thanks Duck, I'll see to it that he takes a break soon."

"Then I will leave Timothy in your capable hands. By the way Jethro, I was surprised Abigail was not hanging on his arm."

Gibbs laughed. "You should have seen her at the crime scene, thought we'd need a crowbar to separate them." His expression became serious as he recalled his first view of Tim's Porsche with its shattered windshield. "She's down in the evidence garage with the car, not sure there's much to find, but if there's anything..."

"Our Ms Sciuto will be sure to find it."

_Monday 12 March_

The journal lay on the floor, the lights were still on in his cell but Landon couldn't think of anything else to write. His hand had been shaking so badly, all he'd managed was a single sentence. _Today has been a bad day_.

Anything more he wanted to write would have been beyond incriminating...he couldn't put his thoughts down on paper, but that certainly didn't stop them going round and round in his head.

He should be dead, dead, dead, dead, not walking around like nothing had happened. How was it even remotely possible that a professional killer could miss; not once, but twice? Elroy had promised Landon that his guy on the outside was one of the best, a US Army trained sniper who had been dishonourably discharged and now made his money as a gun for hire…Jeanette had transferred the fee into an offshore account and the wheels had been set in motion, but after two attempts McGreg- McGee was still alive.

Landon felt a sharp pain in his hand and looked down in surprise when he realised he'd been clenching his hands so tight the fingernails had broken the surface of his skin. He hurried to the washbasin and swilled the blood from his hands before it got on the sheets, if the guards saw anything like that, it would lead to questions he didn't want to answer.

_Tuesday 13 March_

Landon hadn't slept, but the long sleepless hours in the darkness had been fruitful; he had made a decision. McGee did not deserve to die a quick death, not when he'd had to spend so many pain-filled days inside this hellhole, a bullet in the head was too quick…there were so many other ways a man could die, ways that would have McGee begging to be put out of his misery long before the fatal blow was delivered. Landon had heard some of the men talking in the exercise yard, bragging about the things they had done, the reasons they'd been locked away; at times he'd been sick to his stomach, at times he'd been plain frightened, being so close to men like these, never knowing if he could become one of their victims.

He'd stayed safe for one reason only; Elroy Dunkley, a 6'2" African American, 240 pounds of pure muscle honed every day by hours in the gym; he was the archetypal gentle giant; unless you knew he'd brutally raped four young women and strangled them with his bare hands. Landon had seen him one day struggling to write a letter to his mother, he'd offered to help and since that day Elroy had made it his own personal mission to keep Landon safe. The shooter Elroy had recommended may not have worked out, but he was friends with men who had committed unspeakable acts of violence, and each of them knew people on the outside who could be every bit as depraved as they were themselves. Landon was certain they could put him in touch with that one special someone who could make Timothy McGee feel the kind of physical pain that would match the mental anguish he had suffered every minute of every day since he'd been arrested.

There were so many ways a man could die, it was a pity McGee could only experience one; Landon shook his head, death would be the end of an extended process…McGee could only die once, but so long as he died screaming in agony, pleading with his tormenter to end his suffering, Landon would be able to face the rest of his incarceration with a sense of contentment he hadn't known for five years. It had to happen soon; he'd already waited too long, as he put on his prison issue clothes and waited for the cell doors to open at the start of a new day, he smiled, a cold bitter smile…today was going to be a good day.


	5. Chapter 5

_Wednesday 14 March _

"I could stay a little longer Boss; I'm not even half-way through the list of warrant applications."

Gibbs couldn't help but smile at Tim's wheedling tone. "You had enough of the safe house already?"

Tim shrugged. "It's not so bad, except…doesn't matter."

"Except what Tim? I told you yesterday, if there's anything you need, ask."

"No way; I'm not having Tony tell everyone I was whining because the internet speed is too slow. I can deal with it for a few days; until we find the shooter."

Gibbs wasn't so sure they'd solve the case fast enough to suit Tim, not after two frustrating days delving into the background of the families and friends of Benedict, Cove and Corbett. Adrian Corbett's wife had married again, and although she didn't have anything good to say about the author whose words had been a death sentence for the father of her child, Gibbs saw nothing that indicated a desire for murderous revenge.

Lieutenant Benedict had no close family, and his friends, many of whom still worked for Metro PD, agreed wholeheartedly with the verdict of the investigation. Any residual anger they had was directed at Benedict's partner; Archer had put Benedict in harm's way and no matter whose bullet had killed the Lieutenant they all knew who was really to blame for his death.

As for Petty Officer Cove, things had been more complicated; his cousin had a criminal record, and he definitely held Tim to account for Cove's death. Tony and Ziva had interviewed him and they hadn't given him an easy ride; Gibbs had been watching from Observation, hoping to see the smallest sign that this man had the cajones to go after a Federal Agent. He didn't see that, what he did see was an angry young man who would battle it out with fists and feet, but not bullets.

Which left them back at square one looking closely at the people they'd put away over their years together.

"How are those warrants coming Tim?"

"Should have the first of them by lunchtime tomorrow."

"Then go, get some sleep, it's what we're going to be doing."

Tim's shoulders slumped, he'd almost rather sleep on the futon in Abby's lab than go back to the safe house; he'd hardly slept at all last night, and it wasn't just the fact that he'd been trying to figure out who would want him dead that had kept him awake. Having two armed agents sitting outside his bedroom was not conducive to a pleasant night's sleep; not that Peter Rowan and Chloe Agyeman weren't good at what they did, it was just that they weren't a part of Gibbs' team. Tim hadn't asked for the protection detail, he'd have been content to watch out for himself, but Gibbs had insisted.

Gibbs gave a wry smile at Tim's downbeat demeanour. "It's not too late to change your mind Tim, Ducky said you could stay at his place as long as you want."

"No…I couldn't, if something happened to Ducky because I was there…no, I'll stick with the safe house Boss…The other agents, they're at risk too, couldn't I stay there alone, no one knows where I am."

"You sure of that Tim?"

"As sure as I can be."

"Not good enough. You stay put, and you keep your protection detail until we find out what's going on here, we clear?"

"Crystal Boss."

Tony and Ziva exited the elevator, their expressions telling the tale of more fruitless hours spent interviewing people connected to the three men Tim had named as his 'victims'.

"Nothing doing Boss; Coves' ship mates enjoyed partying with him, but after all this time most of them barely remember him, and none of them is looking for any kind of payback."

"It was always a long-shot, you two look beat. I figure it's about time we all hit the hay."

"Yeah, your guard dogs are already waiting downstairs Tim."

Tim managed to summon up a tired smile. "Thanks Tony, guess I shouldn't keep them waiting. See you all in the morning."

"Not too early Tim, you were here at 06.30 today, make it later tomorrow, vary the routine."

"On it Boss." Tim wasn't particularly happy at the prospect of spending any more time at the safe house than was absolutely necessary, but he knew Gibbs was right, if anyone was watching him, he shouldn't make himself an easy target.

He called in to Abby's lab on the way out to say goodnight, she asked again if she could go with him, but tempting as it was to have a friend for company Tim wasn't prepared to run the risk that Abby could be hurt in any kind of crossfire.

"You'll see me again in the morning Abs; Gibbs is sending everyone home, you should go too, we could all use some sleep."

"But if we don't find this creep soon you'll have to stay in the safe house, I miss not being able to call you."

"Same here, you shouldn't worry, we will find him, we always get the bad guys, right?"

She gave him a quick goodnight hug and didn't say what was going through her mind. 'We don't always catch them before they hurt somebody.'

NCIS NCIS

Landon Grey's hand was unsteady as he wrote the date in his journal, _March 14_, only this time he wasn't shaking with anger, he was trembling with excitement. It was going to happen, any day now McGee was going to lose his freedom, he would suffer and then he would lose the will to live...Landon grinned, he couldn't believe how easy it had been; Elroy had taken him to the perfect guy right away. Lester Jarrom, serving life without the possibility of parole for the sadistic murders of a young couple; he'd stalked them for days, then abducted them in the dead of night and...it had taken three days for the man to die, the woman had succumbed sooner. What had struck Landon most vividly was the sheer joy on Jarrom's face as he described what he and his partner had done to Kathryn Lundgren and Dale O'Hara, it had taken all of his willpower to sit and listen without throwing up. But he did stay, because the disgust he felt now would easily turn into pleasure when he heard that these self same things could be happening to McGee.

Jarrom had received a visitor earlier today, and as Landon sat listening to Melissa's soft voice giving him news of a world he could never truly hope to see again, he had watched the expressions on the faces of the two men. Landon could have told anyone the exact moment when Jarrom gave the man sitting opposite details about what he wanted him to do, the light of sheer primal desire filled his eyes...They talked together right to the last minute when the guards started ushering visitors outside. Landon smiled when he saw the handshake between the two men; it looked like a deal had been made. He tore his gaze away long enough to give his full attention to Melissa; got to keep her sweet, her money was going to buy him the one thing that would make his life tolerable.

"I have a meeting with the lawyers on Friday. You just wait sweetheart, I know I'll have good news for you next time I visit."

Landon squeezed her hand and gave her his most winning smile. "You are too good to me Mel; it was my luckiest day ever when you decided to write to me."

Melissa blushed and looked lovingly into his eyes. "I'm the lucky one Landon, without you my life was meaningless, now...I live each day with a new purpose, and...and I have love in my life, I never knew true love before."

He didn't know what to say in the face of such blind devotion, Landon kissed her forehead quickly before the guards came over, and told her another lie to add to the many that had already passed his lips.

"I love you Mel, never forget that." He waved to her until she was out of sight, then joined the line of inmates waiting to be escorted back to their cells.

The hours had dragged as Landon waited to speak to Jarrom, but when he finally spoke to him at afternoon exercise Landon could feel the tremors of anticipation coursing through his body. It turned out the man visiting Jarrom was the partner who had helped him kill Lundgren and O'Hara; a partner he'd never betrayed and who was delighted to repay his friend by taking on a commission to kill. The fact that his intended victim was a Federal Agent simply added extra spice to the deal.

"Warren knows a guy who can help him get to McGee, says he's real sneaky, can get all kinds of information easy as pie."

Landon shook Jarrom's hand and as he did so the thought entered his head that he was making a deal with the devil. "We haven't discussed the price; Elroy told you I had money right?"

Jarrom's smile was cold as ice. "He told me, Warren has simple tastes, doesn't like to draw attention to himself, he won't need a lot of money...enough to cover expenses, pay the other guy. My partner, he'll do a job like this for pure pleasure, and when he comes to tell me what he's done to your guy his enjoyment will be doubled; he knows I love it when he talks about his work."

A brief feeling of disgust was tempered for Landon by the growing optimism he was starting to feel that this time McGee really was going to die, and he wouldn't die easy.

Soon after he'd made his deal with Jarrom Landon had gone back to his cell and tried to concentrate on reading, it was a fruitless exercise. His head was full of images of McGee writhing in agony, of the sounds of him screaming for mercy, a mercy that wouldn't come, not until the moment of his death. Landon was almost frightened by how much he was looking forward to hearing the details of McGee's final days, but not frightened enough that he tried to stop thinking about them. Eventually he'd given up on his book and opened his journal, once he'd stilled his hand sufficiently he started to write.

_Melissa came to visit, seeing her always makes me feel so good. She has news about my appeal, and there was more news, better than I could ever have dreamed. I have known days of sorrow and despair in this place, today has been a day of joy and hope for the future, a future that suddenly seems so much brighter._


	6. Chapter 6

**Thursday 15 March**

Another sleepless night had left Tim feeling tired and cranky. He snapped at Peter Rowan simply because he'd reminded Tim that they wouldn't be setting out for the office until later. Tim had apologised immediately.

"Sorry Rowan, I know you're just doing your job, no call for me to make it any harder."

"Not a problem McGee, if anyone has a right to be on edge right now, it's you."

Tim had smiled his thanks and gone back to working on his ever-growing list of possible suspects. He still couldn't get his head round the notion that he was the target, but after Sunday there didn't seem to be any doubt. Now that Benedict. Cove and Corbett's connections had been eliminated from the investigation the team had been looking back over old cases. He'd been genuinely surprised to discover that the others had very different ideas about the role he had played in closing cases, As far as he was concerned the team had worked together but as Gibbs, Tony and Ziva started to reel off names, he couldn't help but look at things from a new angle.

The people they'd put away often had an off-kilter view of the world, maybe that translated into them seeing the people who had testified against them as targets. He'd come up with a few more names that might bear closer investigation when he saw Chloe with the car keys in her hand.

"You ready to get out of here McGee?"

He raced to the bedroom for his jacket and was by the door before Rowan had chance to finish his coffee.

"Jeez McGee, at least pretend you can bear to be in the same room with us."

"Sorry Chloe, it's just that this place...it's kinda claustrophobic, and I have so much work to do."

Chloe headed for the front door and smiled at Tim. "Then let's get out of here so that you can start working and we can get some sleep."

As Tim was waiting for Rowan to give him the all clear the thought occurred to him that Chloe had a very pretty smile, when all this was over and he could start to live a normal life again maybe he'd ask her out.

He sat in the car and whiled away the journey thinking, not about people who could be after his hide, but about the two people who had been assigned to protect him. Tim had seen them around at Headquarters, but he hadn't taken much notice, lots of agents coming and going all the time, it was hard to keep track.

Rowan was stocky, 5'9", dark haired with a buzz-cut Gibbs would have been proud to sport in his Marine days. He had come to NCIS after a five year stint in the Navy and Tim had learned that he was hoping one day soon to be appointed Agent Afloat. Scuttlebutt was Rowan didn't much care where his posting took him, just so long as he was at sea.

Chloe had come through the intern programme and seemed to have taken to her chosen career like the proverbial duck to water. She was an inch taller than Rowan, with brown eyes a few shades lighter than her flawless complexion. Her black hair was styled in a neat French plait; Tim smiled a little as he remembered Sarah trying to teach him how to plait her hair in that exact style, he always seemed to be all fingers and thumbs and he never managed anything half as neat and tidy as Chloe had done.

Why had it taken him so long to see just how beautiful she was? Too wired by everything that had happened and definitely not at his best at the end of the day when Chloe and Rowan came to take him back to the safe house. Tim made a decision; no maybe about it, as soon as things calmed down he was going to ask Chloe out on a date, if she said no, so be it, but he was definitely going to ask.

The day was passing in the style that had become the norm since Sunday, brief moments of optimism when a lead looked like it was panning out into something useful, followed by the frustration when the only place it went was a dead end. By the time the light had faded outside, they were no nearer identifying the shooter, but they had been able to eliminate many of the names from their original warrant list.

"I'll be done in ten minutes Boss, twenty max."

It came as no surprise to Tim when his monitor suddenly went black; Gibbs held the power cable aloft.

"Guess you're finishing right now. I told you, follow Ducky's orders or you're out of here. Ziva's got Chinese, we're all going to break for food, and you are going to join us."

Tim leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head; relieving his aching muscles, he was feeling hungry, and a little tired. He checked the time, 18.45; all he'd had since breakfast was a half-eaten sandwich at lunchtime.

"Sounds good Boss." Ziva was already opening cartons and setting them down on his desk. "Smells good too."

"Then eat Tim, working yourself into the ground is not going to solve this case any faster."

Tim wasn't about to argue with Gibbs, certainly not with his mouth full of crispy duck. He savoured the taste and the boost that the much-needed food had given him; Gibbs was right, the break and the food was good, he had to be sharp, and letting himself go too long without sustenance was a rookie mistake.

Tony leaned over Tim's desk. "You done with the spring rolls? You know Tim, turns out you've pissed off almost as many people as me. When Ziva and I talked with Jeremy Pryor, man I thought he was going into cardiac arrest right there, seems he still thinks he'd have got away with killing Erin Kendall if you hadn't noticed his watch. As for Cynthia Cluxton…"

"Tony, I do not think McGee has to hear what that…harpy had to say." Ziva was becoming increasingly concerned that her team mate would not have the necessary reserves of strength to deal with this case. "Are you sleeping McGee? You look tired."

Tim shrugged. "Guess I'm still adjusting…heck, who am I kidding?" He slumped back in his chair. "I'm hanging on by my fingertips; can't be a proper field agent, not supposed to go for a walk outside, can't even sleep in my own bed…What if we don't catch whoever is doing this? I can't live like this forever."

Gibbs put down his chopsticks with a loud clatter and picked up his phone. "Hey Duck, you got a minute."

An hour later Tim was on his way back to the safe house, Ducky had tutted more than once as he'd examined him.

"You promised me you would rest and eat at regular intervals Timothy, I am very disappointed; as for you Jethro, you should have insisted he stop."

Gibbs had looked a little shamefaced. "Truth is Duck, I lost track of the time."

"As you so often do when you are involved in a case." He clicked shut his medical bag. "Well young man, I would send you home immediately, but I think it can wait until you have finished what I assume passes for a square meal around here."

"But Ducky, I have a search running; can I wait for the results?"

Ducky had been about to answer in the negative, but Gibbs beat him to it. "Results will be just as good tomorrow Tim, we're pretty much done for the day, let's wrap it up, start fresh in the morning." He smiled as he read the question in Tim's eyes. "Yes, you can make an early start, so long as you get some sleep tonight."

"I may be able to help with that Jethro; I can prescribe a mild sedative."

Tim shook his head vigorously. "No sleeping pills please Ducky; I have to be alert tomorrow."

"And don't you think getting a decent night's sleep, however you get it, will enable you to be much more alert than would another night tossing and turning?"

"Ducky is right McGee, without sleep none of us is able to function at our best."

"I know Ziva, it's just, everything seems to be out of my control…can't even get a night's sleep without medication."

She'd laid her hand gently on his. "For one night, would it really be so bad?"

He had given a wry smile; he knew when he was beaten. "I am pretty tired, but when my head hits the pillow I keep seeing rifles pointing at me. Guess it won't hurt to try."

Tim was startled out of his reverie by the halting of the car, and Chloe exiting the vehicle. They'd arrived at the safe house, and Tim waited in the sedan.

Chloe completed the necessary checks and Rowan led Tim in through the back door. "You going to be using the computer tonight McGee?"

"No thanks; I think I'm going right to bed, take one of Ducky's pills, read a little, see if I can get a few hours shut-eye."

NCIS NCIS

Gibbs had been sleeping the half-sleep that was customary for him when they were in the middle of a big case, so it didn't take long for the ringing of his phone to bring him fully awake.

"Gibbs."

"Special Agent Gibbs, this is Alan Tomkys, comms tech at headquarters; you said we should call whatever the hour…"

Gibbs checked the time, 02.10, and felt a tightening in his gut. "Spit it out Tomkys."

"The team at the safe house, they missed their 2am check-in; a unit has been despatched, but I thought you'd want to know."

"You thought right. " He ended the call and hit speed dial, after a few rings a sleepy voice answered.

"DiNozzo."

"Tony, call Ziva, meet me at the safe house."

"Boss, is Tim okay?" Every hint of sleepiness was gone from Tony's voice.

"Don't know Tony, but the quicker we get there, the quicker we find out."


	7. Chapter 7

**Friday 16 March**

Landon let Jeanette's inane chatter wash over him, she was his sister, and until Melissa had come into his life, she was the one person who had offered him any help or support, he loved her, but sometimes her obsession with reality TV shows drove him to distraction.

He tried to say the right things whenever she stopped for breath, but he couldn't concentrate. He was constantly scanning the room to see if Jarrom had a visitor today, but half way into this visiting period neither he nor Warren had made an appearance.

Jeanette was in full flow about the latest grossly overweight fifteen year old trying to hike up a mountain when the door opened and Jarrom was led in by a guard; within a minute Warren strode in; with a smile on his face that had Landon's heart beating faster, he bit his lip in frustration. There would be no opportunity to talk with Jarrom until afternoon exercise.

"Landon, did you hear me?"

"Sorry Jeanette, I'm kinda tired today, some nights it's not so easy to sleep."

"Oh my poor baby, and here I am rattling away twenty to the dozen; do you want me to go so you can rest?"

Inside he was screaming Yes! Get out of here; all of you, so I can see Jarrom; but outside he maintained the veneer of calm that he'd been cultivating for years. "No, of course I don't want you to go, the hours I get to spend with you, and Mel, they're the only hours that make life in here bearable, please stay."

She got up from her chair to give him a hug, but a barked order from one of the guards halted her.

"No touching! Sit down Ma'am, you know the regulations."

Jeanette dropped back into her chair and Landon gave her a warm smile. "I'm okay Sis; so long as I have you and Mel, I'll get through this."

"Melissa's a great girl Landon; she put more money into my account even though she's paying the new lawyer herself."

"She wants to be sure I have everything I need, and I've hired a…investigator."

"Didn't your defence have access to all the evidence at the trial?"

"Who knows Jeannie? Maybe there was something they missed, or they left out on purpose just so they could get a guilty verdict."

Jeanette's mouth opened in a wide O. "But they're Federal Agents…Lan, surely they wouldn't lie on oath."

"Why not? Ti…Gibbs, I could see it in his eyes, he hated me; he'd have done pretty much anything to have me locked away."

Risking the wrath of the guards Jeanette reached out and grasped her brother's hand. "We'll get you out of here Landon; at first I wasn't sure…what the agents said, it was so convincing, but Melissa showed me the truth. You weren't on your right mind when you…did what you did, if you can be patient for just a little longer."

"You had your warning Ma'am, let him go and leave right now!"

Landon had seen the guard moving closer, but he didn't warn Jeanette, he'd had enough of her visit and he would be glad to be left alone…to think.

He'd barely been able to eat at lunchtime, his stomach was doing somersaults…the waiting was getting too hard. Finally the guards had come to escort them to the exercise yard; Landon wiped his hands on his pants for the fourth time, his palms were sweating so much, he was sure the guards would notice something. If they thought he was sick they might make him stay in his cell, and he couldn't bear to stay, not when he was sure Jarrom had news for him.

The sun was doing its best to break through the low clouds as Landon took his customary place watching the basketball game, he leaned against the wall and waited some more…no looking round, watch the game, don't draw attention to yourself. Landon repeated the mantra to himself over and over, he was so close, one wrong move now and the guards would be all over him.

"Hey Elroy, you done with bench pressing?"

"You only get one body Grey; you have to take care of it." Elroy stood beside Landon and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Jarrom's on his way, you make your way over to the running track, nice and slow, the guards are antsy today."

Elroy started to do some stretches against the wall, and after taking some deep breaths Landon strolled as nonchalantly as he could across the yard; from the corner of his eye he saw Jarrom arrive.

As usual he was surrounded by a group of hangers-on, men who found some sick satisfaction in staying close to a man whose crimes had made front-page news.

By the time Landon got close to Jarrom he had already started the elaborate warm-up routine which always preceded his three mile run.

"You joining us today, pretty boy? Sure looks like you could use the work-out."

Landon couldn't think of many things he'd rather not do than trying to keep up with Lester Jarrom on a running track, but he had to know about McGee. "Not sure I can go the full distance Jarrom, but I'll do some laps."

"Then get down here and stretch, can't have you snapping a tendon first time out."

He sat on the ground and started some gentle stretching, mirroring Jarrom's moves; Landon tried to be patient, but he couldn't wait any longer. "Did Warren get him?"

"Take it slow Grey, no call to rush things, it's like Warren always says, the journey can be even more enjoyable than reaching your destination." Jarrom looked over at the guards; they seemed to have lost interest in the preparations being made by the group of runners. "He got him alright." Jarrom leapt to his feet and started to jog round the track, slower than usual, but not so slow the guards would notice. Landon ran with him, trying hard to control his breathing, it was the best news he could have wished for. McGee was in Warren's hands, but now he knew that, he had to know more.

"Did he tell you, has he…has he done anything yet?"

Jarrom didn't break stride or turn his head, but he did smile. "He sure has, Warren had to put him under, just a little chloroform, keep him quiet. Seems McGee was trying Warren's patience, and like I told you, he's a patient man; he says McGee was taking too long to wake up, so he gave him a little…nudge."

Landon almost stumbled as he tried to get closer to Jarrom, he didn't want to miss a thing. "How…what did Warren do" Landon's mouth was dry, and it wasn't simply due to the unexpected physical exercise.

Jarrom slowed his pace just a little, but enough that Landon could keep up, he turned his head briefly and smiled; the same smile Warren had given when he walked into the visitor's room. "Did I tell you how good Warren is at what he does? Course I did, he's a master, never knew him peak too soon."

"Jarrom, please!"

"Patience Grey, patience is the key. Warren has lots of special tools; first one he used broke two of McGee's fingers. Warren says his eyes were good and open then; started to ask lots of questions too, the usual; who are you? Why am I here? You know the kind of thing; but another thing Warren's real good at is holding his tongue. Never did like talking while he worked."

Landon concentrated on keeping his breathing steady, there had to be more, McGee deserved to feel so much more pain; he wanted to hurry Jarrom along before his lungs burst and he couldn't run any further, but he remembered…patience.

"Warren soon got sick of hearing McGee talk, wanted to hear him scream, so he hit him with a little electricity, upped the voltage a few times and he sure screamed plenty. That's why Warren was late this morning, he loses track of time when he's enjoying himself."

Warren had been gone for over five hours…the rogue thought entered Landon's mind and his breath was suddenly coming in short gasps, mostly through exhaustion, but partly through excitement and anticipation…What more had Warren done to McGee since he left here this morning? Landon couldn't run another step, he slumped to his knees at the side of the track, gulping in air, his lungs burning. He watched Jarrom continue round the track as if this was just an ordinary day. But for Landon it was extraordinary, it was truly going to happen; after so much waiting and so many dashed hopes, McGee was going to die and he, Landon Grey was going to hear every detail of the agonising road to that glorious moment when Agent McGregor breathed his last…

_Friday 16 March_

_I know it's not New Year, but I made a resolution today, I am going to go running every day, I hadn't realised I was so out of shape, if I ever get out of here I don't want to get breathless walking up a flight of stairs._

_I think at last my life has taken a turn for the better. I look around me now at the friends I have, the women who care for me, and I see real hope for the future. Today has been a great day._


	8. Chapter 8

**Saturday 17 March**

"Gibbs, you know I'm right, you and your team are exhausted, you've had maybe three hours sleep in the last forty-eight, go get some rest, let Shaw and her team take over, just for a few hours."

"Can't do it Leon, one of my people is missing."

"McGee is one of my people too; that's why I want my best team to get some rest, and I'm going to put my second-best team on the case."

"Leon…"

"Don't force me into having Security escort you out of the Squad Room. I'm not expecting you to go home, Pamela has had some cots set up in the Conference Room and Ms Sciuto's lab; you'd better use them, all of you. We're not going to stop looking, you know that."

"I do; when you hear anything…"

"You'll be the second to know."

Gibbs gave in to the inevitable and made his way down the stairs to the Squad Room. Tony and Ziva were still at their desks, but even a cursory glance confirmed that Vance was right, they were exhausted.

"Boss, we're waiting for authorisation to talk with Landon Grey, and we managed to find more security camera footage from the roads around the safe house."

"Hand it over to Agent Shaw Tony; go get some sleep, you too Ziva."

Tony leapt to his feet. "No way! Boss, you can't be serious. Tim is…God knows where he is, how can you even think of quitting?"

"No one said anything about quitting, damn it Tony, we're running on empty."

"We have worked long hours before Gibbs; this is for McGee, we will stay."

"No Ziva. Look, I want to keep working too, but I know I've reached the stage when I might miss something because I'm barely seeing straight. Let some fresh sets of eyes take over until we're rested. It's 02.40 now, we should aim for four hours sleep; right? First thing tomorrow, authorised or not, we head out to Maryland."

Gibbs almost relented when he saw the way both Ziva and Tony looked over at Tim's empty desk, he was sure he could see tears in Ziva's eyes. "Let's go, Ducky took Abby home hours ago; she'll want to have more evidence to work with later today, so we'd better be ready to give her something."

Reluctantly, and with one more pleading look at Gibbs Ziva and Tony walked to the elevator. Gibbs stayed behind and gave Alison Shaw the latest SitRep, and then he too headed for the Conference Room. He smiled briefly when he heard Tony's deep breathing, good, he needed the rest. He slipped off his shoes and jacket, and lay down on the cot. He knew sleep wouldn't come easy; Gibbs lay still so as not to disturb Tony, he closed his eyes and reflected on one of the worst days of his working life,

NCIS NCIS

He had arrived at the safe house minutes after the Metro PD unit that had responded to the call from NCIS. They'd let him in as soon as they saw his ID.

"Two of your agents are in the back yard, out cold, we've sent for an ambulance. No obvious signs of injury."

Gibbs couldn't spare any time for them right now, he had to see the bedroom…

Tim's bed was neatly made, looked as if it hadn't been slept in; and for one horrible second Gibbs thought Tim had finally decided he wasn't going to put anyone else at risk and had left the safe house to fend for himself. But in his gut he knew that wasn't so, two unconscious agents told him that wherever Tim was, he hadn't gone of his own free will.

"Boss, Ziva's right behind me…" Tony was breathless and he felt like his heart had been pumping way too fast ever since he go Gibbs' call, but as he looked at the bed, and at Gibbs, it felt like his heart had stopped. Gibbs gave him a gentle head slap.

"Hold it together Tony, we have work to do."

And work they had, they'd searched every inch of the house and the surrounding garden. Every time one of them had a call they hoped, maybe dreaded, that there was a hit on the BOLO that had been put out on Tim the minute they'd confirmed he was gone. There had been no sightings, and none of them wanted to speculate aloud why Tim hadn't been…why the shooter hadn't finished the job right here.

Peter Rowan had started to come round when the EMTs began their examination. He had nothing to tell them other that the fact he was sorry, it was his fault. Gibbs hadn't contradicted him, not because he wanted Rowan to feel any worse, but because he knew that anything he said right now wouldn't make Rowan feel any better. Tim had been his responsibility, and he was gone.

"Must have been the coffee…both of us had a cup…after Tim went to bed. Chloe! Is she okay?"

"Looks like she'll be fine, just taking her longer to come round. Go to the hospital Rowan; see if they can find out what you were given."

"No…I have to help, shouldn't have…"

"Shouldn't have what? Had a cup of coffee. you couldn't know there'd been a security breach, someone found out about this place, must have broken in when Tim was at NCIS…go Rowan, you can help when the medics say so."

After hours of searching and finding nothing, not even a fingerprint belonging to one of the occupants of the safe house Tony threw his flashlight into his back pack. "How can there be nothing? Every room it's like...like no one was here."

"Abby will find something." Gibbs started to head for the door. "Let's get what we have back to her, then we can get to work on the security camera footage for this area. Ziva, I want you at the hospital, Agyeman may remember something."

Ziva nodded, this was one time she didn't mind visiting a hospital, if they could just get one lead. "You will call me if...if you hear anything."

Gibbs surprised her and maybe himself, by giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Count on it Ziva."

NCIS NCIS

The hours after their return to NCIS had been full of frustration, dashed hopes and tears, lots of tears from Abby. She had grabbed the evidence bags from Gibbs and was ripping them open almost before she had signed the custody documents. Her enthusiasm quickly turned to disappointment when she found nothing that could help them; the bed linen was brand new, fresh out of the packaging. The only fibres they'd found were from the rugs and furnishings in the house. There were no hairs, not a single one, and Abby knew that just did not happen unless the house had been methodically cleaned.

Gibbs had taken swabs from the furniture and floors, and they confirmed what Abby had been dreading.

"I found traces of Sporicidin; it's a high strength disinfectant, sometimes used by crime scene clean-up companies. The house was cleaner than the day it was built, someone...someone erased every trace that T...Tim had ever been there..." She couldn't continue and her words subsided into the sobs that she'd been holding inside. So long as she had hope that her beloved science could help them find Tim, Abby's emotions were just about held in check, but now, she had nothing and her despair knew no bounds.

Ducky had managed to calm her down, and they'd given her some of the security and traffic camera footage to look at; if they could keep her busy, she wouldn't have time to think too much about Tim's whereabouts, and whether he was alive or dead.

Chloe hadn't been able to help, like Rowan she could remember having coffee, she'd started to read a book that Tim had recommended, and the next thing she knew she was waking up in an ambulance. She'd wanted to leave the hospital with Ziva so that she could work on the case, but the doctors wanted to run more tests and she was forced to stay behind.

Ziva went back to NCIS and found the whole squad room buzzing with activity; every available agent was helping in the search. Members of the Cyber Crimes Unit had come in on their day off to see whether the security breach had occurred through the NCIS communications network. Other agents had given up their off-duty weekend to help; the few leads they had were tenuous at best, but they chased down every potential sighting of Tim, continued the searches that Tim had initiated the previous day, and started calling stockists of Sporicidin, surely one of them would lead to a link with their fellow agent.

Most of the searches led nowhere, Tony and Ziva had trawled through so many bank and phone records they were starting to see numbers even when they weren't looking at the screen. But by early evening one set of bank records had Tony rushing over to Ziva's desk.

"Did you say Landon Grey has a sister?"

Ziva tapped a few keys on her computer and nodded. "Yes, Jeanette Muirden. I found nothing unusual in her background check."

"I know; but we were looking at the bank records we knew about. She opened a new one January 3rd in her maiden name, and take a look at this." Tony clicked the remote and the plasma was filled with pages from bank statements. "See, here, and here…"

"What am I looking at Tony?"

"Hey Boss, see these deposits, all from the account of Melissa Grover."

"Grover…"

"You got it Boss, Grover Industries, she's Ralph Grover's daughter."

Gibbs stared at the screen, trying hard to subdue the first hints of hope he'd had all day. "What's the link? Why would she be giving money to Landon Grey's sister?"

"That's what I'm about to find out."

Finding out had been much easier said than done, the Grover family could afford the best lawyers in Washington DC, and they'd stonewalled NCIS for hours before they finally got to speak to Melissa Grover, and even then they advised her to say nothing. It was advice that was heeded, Melissa Grover didn't trust anyone or anything to do with NCIS, and she had no intention of telling them anything that could be used against Landon.

Gibbs was drinking yet another cup of coffee as he tried to calm down after interviewing, or rather not interviewing Melissa Grover; he was waiting for Tony and Ziva to return with Jeanette Muirden. Maybe without a phalanx of high end attorneys at her elbow she would give them something. He grabbed the phone almost before the first ring had died away; perhaps this was a real lead.

"Agent Gibbs? It's Penelope Langston; has something happened to Timothy, he hasn't called today."

Gibbs broke one of his own rules. "Ms Langston, I'm so sorry, I should have called, but we've been…"

"What's happened? Tell me!"

"Tim…he's missing, we're working flat-out to find him." There was silence at the other end of the line, then Gibbs heard a quiet sob, and a deep breath.

"I knew something was wrong; after he was shot, I made Timothy promise to call me every day, or send an email, just to let me know he's okay…he's never left it this late."

Gibbs glanced at his watch, 22.35, could that really be the time?

"Is there anything I can do Agent Gibbs? I can't just sit here...waiting."

"If I thought having you here could help I'd come get you myself, but right now, we have to work."

"I understand. I should call my son, he's in Europe at a NATO summit...I'm not even sure he'll be able to come home...Agent Gibbs, find him, whatever it takes, please find Timothy."

"You have my word."

"Thank you."

Gibbs was determined to keep his word; all he could do was hope and pray that they would find Tim alive. Jennifer Muirden's lawyer insisted they wait until morning before speaking with his client. The team had to endure more frustrating delays before they could access the visitor records for North Branch Correctional Facility, and when they did the link was confirmed.

"Why on earth would a woman like Melissa Grover visit a convicted murderer, and so many times?"

"We're going to ask her that exact question when we talk to her again Ziva."

He'd run up the stairs to ask Vance for permission to by-pass the lawyers, but instead he'd been ordered to sleep. How could he sleep not knowing if one of his people was ever coming home?


	9. Chapter 9

He used to think he knew something about pain; sixteen years ago, after the car accident, as his leg had started to heal, he had experienced pain he'd hoped never to feel again. He had dealt with it, even though there were times when he found himself wishing he'd died in the crash. Over time the pain had lessened and it was with relief that he was able to stop taking medication. That had been a moment he'd relished, taking the pills had worried him, he'd been scared he'd turn into some kind of junkie and miss out on MIT. But that was then...now, if someone offered him pain relief…he'd give them everything he owned for just one pill.

"Aaagh!" Another surge of electricity, and another muted scream that he wished he could have stifled. He tried, he really did, he hated to give these sick bastards the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but when the power surged through his body…"No! No more…Aaagh!" His screams were much quieter now…as the hours had passed he was getting weaker and weaker…

The older man smiled, every single time he did this he smiled; Tim struggled to control his breathing, to stop the tremors that had his teeth chattering. It took longer to control the shaking, every time the aftershocks juddered through his body Tim tried to breathe slow and calm, at first it had worked, but the electric shocks had been used so many times, he had lost count…in fact he'd lost all track of time…

How long had he been here? How many hours, or was it days? Tim took another ragged breath as the tremors gradually, oh so slowly, subsided to be replaced by the numbing, constant pain that hadn't left him since he had been woken so brutally…whenever that had been.

When the first sharp pain had pulled him from his drugged sleep Tim had asked why he was here, why they were doing what they were doing…he didn't get a single answer then, and all he'd had since was stone cold silence, the only voice he'd heard all the time he'd been here was his own.

In the first hours after waking Tim had done his best to lock every detail about the men in his memory, if he ever had to testify they might need a description of the two men; it was two, he was sure of that, at first he thought there was another man, hovering on the edge of his vision, but he figured it must have been part of a pain-induced dream.

As the pain levels increased, and the intervals between the stabbing, or cutting, or shocking decreased, he started to get the details mixed-up. Not good enough McGee, get your head back in the game, you have to remember, Gibbs will need to know…

The older man was black, his head shaved, so Tim decided to call him Baldie, not especially original, but it was the best he could do…Baldie had dark brown eyes completely lacking in any warmth or humanity. Tim estimated he was about 5'11" tall weighing 230 pounds. He always wore a dark blue jump suit and utility belt. Tim dreaded the sound of the tools on that belt clicking against each other as Baldie came closer to him; he knew the end result of any visit was renewed pain.

The younger man, it looked almost like he was Baldie's pupil, he was always looking to the older man every time he did something, seeking approval, usually he got it too. He was getting more confident, and was inflicting more pain each time he picked up a knife, or a probe, opening old wounds causing blood to flow again. Once he leaned down and licked the blood, and that was the only time Tim saw any sign of disapproval from Baldie, not a word was said, but the younger man knew he'd better not repeat that action.

Steve…Tim gave him that name because he reminded him of Steve Buscemi. He was white, an inch or so smaller that Baldie, and about 20 pounds lighter, Tim couldn't get a handle on the colour of his eyes, in some lights they were muddy grey, in others ice blue. His hair was mid brown, cut real short, almost military style, maybe he was a former serviceman.

For a while all these things mattered to Tim, he wanted to be ready when Gibbs arrived, to show that he was able to deal with a situation like this, and that he had maintained the high standards expected of the MCRT; but as the hours went by and his attempts to escape from the shackles holding him down proved futile, they started to matter less.

He had known right from the start that the very fact they let him see their faces was a bad sign; if they'd hidden their faces maybe he could have held on to the idea that he was to be traded for something, or someone. It didn't take him long to work out that they all they were interested in was inflicting pain…they didn't care if he saw them because they didn't think he would be getting out of here alive. Only thing was, they didn't know how good Gibbs and the others were, they'd find him and get him out of this place.

Tim had held on to that thought for as long as he could, but as the knives sliced through flesh, and an extra-strong surge of electricity caused him to lose control of his bladder and bowel the doubts started to surface. He lay on the metal frame to which he was chained, lay in his own filth and prayed that the team had found something at the safe-house, that Chloe and Peter were okay, that the pain would stop.

For brief moments he had some respite from the pain as he lapsed into unconsciousness, but they never let him rest for long and pulled him back any way they could. One time Steve had poured something on one of the new cuts, it had burned almost as bad as the electricity and Tim had cried out for mercy, but there was none. Another time he'd woken choking, gasping for air, two strong hands were squeezing his throat, Baldie...he was smiling, and with his face so close Tim wished he could spit in his eye, just once show him the contempt he felt, but his mouth was so dry, and it was taking every morsel of strength he had simply to breathe...

Once or twice, maybe more...he couldn't remember, Tim had asked for water, all he got was cold stares and silence, so he didn't ask again. Over time he also stopped asking why they were doing this to him; they did it because they enjoyed it.

How much longer could he hold on? He knew he couldn't take much more, his vision was constantly blurred, he wasn't sure whether he was hot or cold...One thing he was sure about; if he didn't get help soon, Gibbs and the others would be investigating his murder.

**Saturday 17 March: 06.10**

Gibbs woke with a start, how long had he been sleeping? He checked his watch, 06.10; last time he looked it had read 03.04, so he'd finally managed to get three hours…

"Hey Boss, I got coffee."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Not long, guess I was more tired than I thought." He put the coffee on the floor beside Gibbs' cot. "Boss…"

"He's still alive Tony." Gibbs wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince Tony or himself; all he knew was he had to say the words out loud.

After a quick shower and shave Gibbs and Tony were ready to start afresh. They exited the elevator to find Ziva already at her desk.

"Damn it Ziva! Did anyone get any sleep?"

"I have only been here for thirty minutes Gibbs. We have permission to speak with Grey, the car is ready, we can leave immediately."

"Good work Ziva."

"Gibbs, we're making some progress with suppliers of Sporicidin." Alison Shaw looked tired, Gibbs figured they all looked that way, but she also had a look of determination; she wanted Tim found almost as much as he did. "We have call backs on some of them, but we managed to get through to others, even got store surveillance pictures from three outlets. We've traced the people who used credit cards, and we're left with five cash purchases."

"You have IDs?"

"Not yet, we're running facial recognition."

Gibbs looked up at the plasma for the first time. "Son of a..." Ziva and Tony hurried to his side. They stared open-mouthed at the screen.

Ziva was the first to find her voice; she glanced at Shaw and pointed to the screen. "Do not waste time tracing number four, we know him…Gibbs, I did not even know Mikel Mawher had been released from prison."

"Tony, get someone over to Ducky's place, now! If this sicko is back on the street he could go after Abby."

"No need Jethro; Abigail is already here. Don't waste your glare on me; we couldn't sleep so we came in to see if there was something we could do."

Gibbs gave a grunt of exasperation. "Thought I told you all to rest."

"We tried, and I think we dozed a little; but speaking for myself, I couldn't stop thinking about Timothy."

"Same goes for all of us I guess. Duck, can you help Abby?"

Ducky nodded slowly. "For as long as she needs me."

"Thanks. Okay people, let's head out to Cumberland."

Ziva and Tony grabbed their back packs and hurried to keep pace with Gibbs as he marched to the elevator.

"Agent Gibbs, stop!"

Gibbs glared at the intruder. "We have some place to be Rowan; what do you want?"

Rowan came to a breathless halt. "There...there's a guy downstairs, says he has information about Agent McGee's whereabouts. Won't talk to anyone but you. We put him in Interrogation One."

They changed direction and headed for the interrogation room. As Gibbs pushed open the door he felt no surprise when he saw the dark-haired man fidgeting in his seat at the metal table.

"Agent Gibbs, I knew you'd come, did you bring Abby? I'd love to see her one more time."


	10. Chapter 10

**Saturday March 17: 07.03**

Gibbs walked slowly to the table and fought to keep his emotions in check. Seeing Mawher's face up there on the plasma, after so many years had been a shock; seeing him in the flesh, smiling like nothing had happened had Gibbs itching to punch him in the mouth. He could tell by the deep breathing either side of him that Ziva and Tony were feeling the same way; he pulled out the chair and sat down, muscles tense, ready to pounce if necessary.

"Leave Abby out of this Mawher, what do you know about Agent McGee?"

Something in Gibbs' tone took away Mawher's smile, but he gave it another try. "I know plenty, and I'll tell you...just let me talk with Abby."

Gibbs had no intention of letting Abby anywhere near this psycho; but if Mawher truly did have information about Tim, they couldn't afford to antagonise him. Gibbs clenched his fists tight and fought to maintain some self-control.

"Maybe later, first off tell me about McGee."

"You have to believe me Gibbs; I didn't know what they were going to do. They said all they wanted was for me to hack into NCIS, find out where you were keeping him...I never thought they were...he's hurt bad Gibbs."

Ziva and Tony took a step closer to him and Mawher cowered back in his chair when Gibbs leapt out of his seat and leaned over the table, there was real menace in his eyes.

"Where is he? Tell me!"

"He...there's a recording studio out near Rockville."

"You said 'they', how many?"

"Two...Lee Warren and Nick Costero...this will count for me later, won't it?"

Ziva leaned down to whisper in his ear. "If my friend is dead, it will count for nothing."

**07.35**

They were in the sedan racing through the thankfully light Saturday morning traffic. Rowan and Agyeman were following behind; they'd pleaded with Gibbs to be allowed to assist, and knowing how he would have felt in their shoes, Gibbs didn't have the heart to refuse.

By the time they arrived at the commercial park that housed BetaMats Recording Studio, the nerves of the three occupants of the lead sedan were stretched tight. If Mawher was telling the truth, Tim was in there and he was hurt...maybe worse.

They had left Mawher back at NCIS giving a full statement; they'd find out later the details of how he came to be involved in all this. Right now the priority was getting to Tim, nothing and no one else mattered.

Gibbs parked the car well away from the studio, and from the potential prying eyes of surveillance cameras. An ambulance was waiting one block away, ready to roll as soon as they found Tim. The agents put on their Kevlar vests, inserted the comms ear-wigs and drew their weapons.

"Agyeman, Rowan, you take the rear. Do not move until you get my word, clear?"

They both nodded and ran round the back of the block of units. Gibbs knew he didn't need to give his own team any instructions; they had been through this type of manoeuvre so many times, it was almost second nature. But this morning, the stakes were higher than they had been for a very long time.

"Stay focussed, you hear me?"

Ziva was already working on the lock, in the silence they all heard the click that signified the lock opening. "We are in."

Knowing Agyeman and Rowan would be in place, Gibbs whispered into the microphone at his wrist. "On my mark…Go, go…"

They rushed through the main door and Gibbs put his hand to his lips as they reached the internal door that would give them access to the studio where Mawher had told them Tim was being held. Gibbs pushed open the internal door quietly; he gave a quick gasp as the smell of human waste and burnt flesh assailed his nostrils, and as he heard the tail-end of a barely audible scream. Tim's back arched as the electricity flooded through his body, and Gibbs felt rage, white hot, burning rage.

"Federal Agents! Step back!"

The man leaning over Tim hesitated, just for a second; Gibbs waited for him to drop the electric prods. Warren breathed in nice and slow, his back was to Gibbs and he hadn't noticed the other agents coming in through the back door. He glanced at Costero, smiled and held tight to the metal probes. Chloe saw him, she knew what he was about to do, and she knew what she had to do…she didn't hesitate and fired two shots into his heart, as Warren staggered back, dead before he hit the ground, Costero jumped away from the power unit and put his hands in the air.

"Don't shoot! Please…don't hurt me."

Gibbs was already moving toward the metal frame in the centre of the room. "Rowan, cuff him." He re-holstered his Sig and fell to his knees beside Tim. For a few seconds everything stopped as they watched the last of the tremors subside. Tim's eyes were open, but he was looking up at the ceiling, seemingly focussed on some spot only he could see; slowly he turned his head and there was a physical jolt when he saw Gibbs.

"B…Boss? Get…back…I…stink…"

They could barely believe what they were hearing. In a voice so low and hoarse they had to strain to hear what he was saying Tim was worrying about that…for what seemed to Tim like an eternity no one spoke. This was too much, he'd waited so long for them to come, prayed for the strength to survive, and they had come, yet even now he was faced with silence.

A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye. "P…please…talk to…me…they…never talked…"

His words finally broke the spell of stillness. Ziva knelt by the frame and started to unlock the shackles holding him tight; Tony raced from the room to bring in the medics. It fell to Gibbs, the team's 'functional mute' to fill the void. He laid his hand on Tim's forehead; his face was the only part of his body that wasn't covered in cuts and burns.

"Tim, look at me, and listen. We have worked and prayed for this moment since the minute we knew you were gone. Do you think we care that you don't smell like you just stepped out of the shower? We just wanted you back Tim, do you understand that? We'd have swum through raw sewage if it meant getting you home, this…this is nothing. Won't be long now, the medics are close, they'll give you something for the pain."

Tim almost smiled, but his dry, cracked lips wouldn't co-operate and his eyelids felt so heavy. "No pain...just...tired..."

"No Tim! Not now..." Gibbs was frantically searching for a pulse when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Boss, the Paramedics are here, they'll take over."

Gibbs gave a brief prayer of thanks that the medics had been so close and stepped aside to let them work on Tim. Ziva had unlocked the shackles that had secured his wrists and ankles to the frame. She was trembling as she watched Tim being given oxygen and life-saving fluids.

"Oh my gentle McGee, what have they done to you?"

"Ziva? You say something?"

"Why would they do this Tony? He said they never spoke...I have seen men tortured like this for information, but to inflict such suffering...to what end?"

"Let's ask the snivelling son of a bitch." Tony's mouth twisted in a snarl as he took a step toward Costero.

"Stand down Tony! We do this by the book."

"But Boss…you see what they did…"

"And he'll pay Tony; you think I don't want to beat him to a pulp? For Tim's sake, we do this by the book. Rowan, Agyeman, you two wait here. I'll call Vance, have him give Tim's grandmother the news, and send a team to process the scene, then you can take that poor excuse for a man back to NCIS."

Ziva almost smiled for the first time since Tim disappeared, she had been sure they would be staying to collect evidence; her question held a note of hope. "We are going with him to the hospital?"

"Not leaving him alone Ziva; I don't see these two sadistic bastards as snipers, the way I figure it, Tim's still a target, and until I know for certain that's not so, we have eyes on him every minute."

With haste, but with no sense of panic, the two paramedics applied pressure dressings to the deepest cuts, one on Tim's thigh, and the other on his chest. It seemed to those watching powerless from the sidelines that there was barely an inch of Tim's body that hadn't been sliced open or burned.

He didn't stir or make a sound as they cut off his soiled and bloodstained boxers and covered him with a thermal blanket to help him retain what little body heat he had left.

The paramedics worked quietly and with great professionalism, but Gibbs had seen them both cast a look of contempt at the dead man on the ground. He didn't blame them, dealing with the aftermath of the actions of a man like Warren wouldn't be easy, even for people who dealt with pain and suffering every day.

As they lifted him onto the gurney a faint groan escaped Tim's lips, and Gibbs again laid a calming hand on Tim's forehead.

"You're doing great Tim, the medics are going to get you to the hospital right now, and your grandmother's on her way."

"D…don't…she…not like…this…"

Gibbs could barely hear Tim's words, his voice was so hoarse and muffled by the oxygen mask, but he could see that Tim was genuinely distressed that people were seeing him in his current state.

"Tim, they're going to clean you up at the hospital, but I know if your grandmother could see you right now she would take you in her arms and hold you, she wants you home Tim, that's all any of us wanted."

Tim's eyes didn't open, but his battered right hand reached out to Gibbs. "Thank…you…"

"Agent Gibbs, we have to get going." One of the paramedics was at Gibbs' shoulder.

"Yeah I know. Tony, you go with him, you're good at talking, we'll follow in the sedan."

Gibbs noted Tony's slight hesitation. "Can you do it Tony, or should I send Ziva?"

"I'm on it." Tony took Gibbs' place beside the gurney as it was wheeled toward the exit. "So Tim, we've been pretty busy lately and I don't think I told you about my latest DVD purchase. A Fiftieth Anniversary box set of every Bond movie ever made. It's beyond cool…"

Ziva shook her head and gave a wry smile. "McGee will not have to worry about silence for some time. When Tony starts talking about James Bond there is no stopping him."

"Kind of what I had planned Ziva. Let's move; I don't want the ambulance out of our sight."


	11. Chapter 11

**Saturday 17 March: 18.45**

Gibbs watched him in his medically induced sleep, watched the slightly erratic peaks and troughs on the heart monitor, and the reassuringly steady rise and fall of his chest. When did Tim change? When did the shy, stumbling, stammering, greenest of green case agents become a man of such strength and courage? He had endured thirty hours of unrelenting torture, and survived. The steel was there right from the start; Gibbs had seen it the first morning in Norfolk all those years ago, when he'd got in Tim's face and waited for him to back away, to show fear. It hadn't happened and that had been the moment when Gibbs had decided he would find out more about Timothy McGee, Case Agent, Norfolk Naval Station.

The steel Gibbs had seen back then had been honed on the whetstone of grief at the loss of people close to him, witnessing unspeakable acts of violence, facing danger on a regular basis, dealing with disappointment in his love life, and even putting up with Tony's wisecracks that sometimes went too far. Through it all Tim had done his job, and done it incredibly well; he'd gained confidence, and given the way he'd come through this ordeal so far, he clearly had reserves of physical strength that even Gibbs hadn't imagined.

"Duck, is he doing okay?"

"As every hour passes he gets a little stronger Jethro, the sedation is giving his heart the best chance to settle into a regular sinus rhythm."

Gibbs glanced again at the monitor. "Still doesn't look right."

"Because it isn't. All the electric shocks he was subjected to took a terrible toll on Timothy's heart, and quite rightly the doctors here were reluctant to shock him again, so they're keeping him sedated and allowing Timothy's body every opportunity to heal itself."

Ducky hoped he was giving his old friend the reassurance he clearly required. Gibbs wasn't alone in needing some words of comfort. If he was honest Ducky would admit he'd have liked someone to offer him a few words of solace. He could look at Tim now without feeling physically sick, but that hadn't been the case the first time the doctors had allowed visitors.

When Ducky had walked through the door and seen Tim lying in his cocoon of burn dressings, rows of stitches criss-crossing his skin, his throat darkening with the bruises inflicted by the hands of another so-called human being…The monitors told him their own story, blood pressure way too low, heart-rate erratic, temperature too high… He looked as if he had been to the gates of Hell and been pulled back just before they opened up…Without thought Ducky had moved closer to the bed and started talking; oft-told tales that he was sure Tim had heard before, but all that mattered was that he filled the silence.

Learning that Tim's torment had taken place in absolute silence had almost broken Ducky's resolve that he would be the strong one, the one who held it together while Gibbs and the others took the time they needed to come to terms with everything they had heard since arriving at the hospital.

Tim had been taken immediately to the ER, away from their sight once more; this time they knew he was receiving the very best care possible.

Ducky and Abby had arrived with Tim's grandmother, there had been hugs all round from Abby, relieved beyond words that Tim was safe. But the joy of those initial greetings soon faded as the minutes ticked away and there was no news from the medical staff beyond 'we're doing everything we can.'

In the waiting room Abby had taken Penelope Langston to one side and asked her to share stories from Tim's childhood. It seemed Penny had an endless supply of stories about her grandson, and Abby was only too happy to be distracted by learning more about her best friend. She was also happy to keep Penny away from the conversations she knew would be going on at the other side of the room. Director Vance had arrived to give Gibbs and the others some detail about Mawher's interview and Abby knew Ducky had information that Penny most definitely did not need to hear, not until they knew Tim was going to be okay.

Gibbs had already liaised with Vance to set up security details round the clock, and he'd agreed to the double-teams that Gibbs had requested. Security at Bethesda was better than at most hospitals, but they'd let someone get to Tim once, and as far as Gibbs was concerned it wasn't going to happen again.

Vance sat beside Gibbs as he started to give details of Mawher's interview. "He's a real piece of work Gibbs, seemed convinced through the whole interview that he was going to have time with Ms Sciuto."

"Never going to happen Leon."

"I concur. Shaw did a good job with him, kept that carrot dangling so he kept talking."

"Does he know who's behind this?"

"No…some guy he met in prison put him together with Warren. But there's money around; Mawher was paid well, first off Warren had him hack into NCIS, and I've got Cyber Crimes closing that loophole. Then Mawher was given a bonus to clean up after them at the safe house, he'd done that kind of thing before I've been told."

"Yeah, crime scene clean-up, it was his job before…he said he saw McGee."

Vance hadn't been able to see McGee since he'd been rescued, but he had some inkling of what Gibbs and the others had seen when they found their team mate; he could understand only too well the struggle they were having coming to terms with everything that had happened. They needed detail in order to make sense of the suffering.

"Apparently Warren offered Mawher even more money to do a clean up after…at the studio. He took him there to see, Mawher thinks he wanted to show off his handiwork. Seems like he expected Mawher to be impressed, only it had the opposite effect, turned his stomach."

"So why didn't he come to us right away?"

"Says he was scared of what Warren and Costero would do to him if they found out…but he started to think about being charged as a conspirator in the murder of a Federal Agent."

"And Abby…he was thinking about her too."

"Can't deny it, but he gave us what we needed, that much will count in his favour when it comes to sentencing, but I'm not making any deals Gibbs, he will be charged to the fullest extent of the law."

Gibbs had given a brief nod of agreement. "So long as he goes to prison for a very long time."

"He will Gibbs."

Vance had left for the Navy Yard, promising he would be back after he had sat in on the interview with Costero. Ducky moved closer to Ziva, Tony and Gibbs, he had things to tell them that he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"The good people back at NCIS began looking into the backgrounds of Warren and Costero even before Mawher's interview was complete. Warren...he was a person of interest in a series of quite dreadful murders. Metro PD were sure he was an accomplice of one Lester Jarrom, currently serving life without the possibility of parole..." Unexpectedly, Ducky seemed lost for words.

"Tell us Duck, what did Jarrom do?"

Ducky glanced over to the two women in the corner, both still engrossed in each other, if they weren't listening he could continue. "His victims...Jethro, they were burned, stabbed, cut so many times...all over their bodies, except..."

"Their faces."

"How did you know Ziva? Of course, you got to Timothy before...Jarrom's final indignity, the one he saved until the last. He cut out their eyes as the ultimate act of violation; then the coup de grace, a scalpel blade to the throat and their torture was done."

Tony gripped his Styrofoam cup so hard it splintered and the remaining contents spilled on the floor. "Damn it! Those bastards were planning to do that to Tim?"

"They did not Tony; we got to him in time; that is where our focus should be..."

Ziva knelt beside Tony and helped him mop up the spillage, thankful to have something to do, however trivial.

"Warren chose Tim for a reason Duck, someone else is behind this, someone with money."

"I'm sure you are right Jethro, perhaps Director Vance will have more information later."

Another hour had ticked away minute by tortuous minute before the door opened and a petite Asian woman walked into the waiting room, making directly for Penny. "I am Doctor Raulia; you must be Agent McGee's grandmother."

"Yes, please tell me, how is he, can I see him?"

"I'll take you to him right away, he's in the ICU. So it's family visiting only."

"Then these people must come with me, they're family too."

With an understanding smile Doctor Raulia had led them to the ICU, talking as they walked; most of the words washed over them…Tim was breathing unaided, there were going to be tough times ahead for him, he would need lots of support when he regained consciousness. As they filed in to see Tim the words became meaningless; everything about the way he looked was wrong…but for one thing, the most important thing of all, Tim was alive.

After a brief visit they left Penny and Abby sitting with Tim, Doctor Raulia had given them some leeway for an initial look at their friend, but she wasn't prepared to have more than two people at the bedside.

During the afternoon they had taken turns sitting with Tim; Penny wouldn't leave him, but all her words seemed to have deserted her when she saw her grandson looking so damaged. Each of his team mates were sure to keep up a steady stream of conversation, hoping that somewhere in his deep sleep Tim would know he was not alone.

Vance had returned and spent a few minutes with Tim, he had been visibly shaken when he joined the others in the waiting room.

"It's lucky for Costero we conducted his interview before I saw Agent McGee…not sure I'd have been able to keep my hands off the whining bastard."

Gibbs laid his hand on Vance's shoulder. "No one here would have blamed you if you, whatever you did."

Vance shook his head. "Wouldn't have helped; like I said to you Gibbs, by the book. I do not want Costero or Mawher walking away from this on a technicality."

"You can take my word Leon, they wouldn't be walking anywhere."

Vance didn't offer any admonishment to Gibbs, how could he? He was the Director of an armed Federal Agency, supposedly able to deal with everything from politicians on the Hill to high-level terrorist threats and take it all in his stride, yet he could feel his blood boiling at the injuries suffered by one of his people.

"One thing Costero did give us, in between trying to convince us that he was a victim in all this." He saw the looks of disbelief all round him. "Oh yeah, tried to tell us Warren had threatened to kill him if he left the studio…didn't wash with any of us. You know they chose that place because it's soundproofed, wouldn't matter how loud someone screamed, there'd be no one to hear…"

It was a sign of his concern for his friend that Tony didn't even notice he'd just been given the opportunity to make a movie reference

"Director, you said Costero gave you something."

"Yes Agent DiNozzo, he did. He confirmed that Agent Agyeman was absolutely right to shoot Warren. Costero said he'd just been given the signal to increase the voltage, in Agent McGee's condition he wasn't likely to have survived if Warren had shocked him again."

Tony clenched his hands into fists again; the tensions of the last two days were catching up and every muscle seemed to be aching. "I wish I'd killed the bastard, maybe then I wouldn't feel so useless."

"None of us has any reason to feel useless Anthony. You all helped to bring Timothy back to us, you will protect him for as long as necessary and you will be there for him when he needs a friend; and make no mistake, he will need his friends in the days and weeks to come."

It was just after six thirty in the evening when Abby managed to persuade Penny to go with her to the cafeteria for something to eat. Gibbs had sent Tony and Ziva to join them, and he and Ducky watched over Tim.

**Saturday 17 March: 21.00**

_Saturday 17 March 2012_

_Weekends are hard, knowing some men are having visitors, but I'm not allowed any. I always find these days tough; and this time it's even harder…Waiting to hear from Melissa about what the lawyers said, more waiting, it's like being in Purgatory…it's all I seem to do…wait. I'll know soon, Monday, that's not so far away. I'll know for sure, just have to get through another day._

Landon closed his journal just as the lights went out; he leaned down and put the book on the floor. Sleep wouldn't come easy, he knew that, his head was full of half-formed images of McGee writhing in agony and screaming for mercy. Landon wanted those images to have detail; he wanted Jarrom to tell him every minute detail of what Warren had done to McGee. Was he dead by now, or was he still getting the treatment he so richly deserved? Landon lay fitfully on his bunk; he didn't want him dead, not yet, it was too soon. He wanted him to suffer for as long as Warren could make it happen…after all Landon had suffered day after turgid day in this place, a few days of pain ending in a merciful death was the least McGee owed him.

**Saturday 17 March: 22.15**

Gibbs hunkered down on the couch; he knew he'd sleep tonight. Tim was 'stable', normally he hated that apparently meaningless word hospitals used to describe a person's condition, but in Tim's case being stable was the very best thing he could be. His heart rate was starting to settle down, and best of all, his parents had arrived at last. They'd had what must have seemed like an interminable journey from Brussels, with flight delays and fog at Dulles holding up the landing they must have felt like they were never going to see their son. Unsurprisingly his mother had cried when she saw him, yet she had hurried to his side and kissed his cheek, whispering "I love you' over and over…the surprise had come when Gibbs had seen tears in Admiral McGee's eyes, and he'd seen hesitancy too.

"Don't hold back Admiral, he needs you now more than ever; talk to him…seems to me you should have plenty to say."

"He looks…what do I say?"

"Not for me to say, you should be proud of him, coming through what he has…"

"I am proud! Always…"

"Don't tell me…tell him…"

Gibbs had left the McGee family to have some time together. He entered the corridor to find new agents on duty. Peter Rowan and Chloe Agyeman had taken over for the night shift.

"You two well rested?"

"Got eight hours today, we won't let him down Agent Gibbs."

"I know."

As he walked out of he hospital Gibbs started to unwind for the first time in days, he had no qualms about leaving Rowan and Agyeman on duty, not only were they well rested, there was something more…they had been on watch when Tim was taken and they had seen first-hand the results of that slip-up. Gibbs knew they would do everything in their power to keep Tim safe. Right now Gibbs trusted them more than anyone outside his team. They would watch Tim from the corridor and Tim's family would watch out for him at his bedside, he could go home and sleep. He'd ordered Ziva and Tony home an hour ago, he wanted them sharp for the morning, they had a very important job to do, first thing tomorrow they would drive out to North Branch Correctional Institution in Maryland and interview Landon Grey.


	12. Chapter 12

10

**Sunday 18 March: 08.15 **

Gibbs, Tony and Ziva handed over their Sigs and signed the paperwork; it was a frustrating but necessary step on their journey toward Landon Grey.

They had planned to see Grey as part of their original investigation; then Tim was taken, and finding him had become their priority. Gibbs had already been convinced that Grey was integral to this case and he had received further confirmation earlier this morning. NCIS agents had discovered yesterday that Lester Jarrom was being held at North Branch and overnight they had examined security camera footage from the prison, footage that showed Jarrom and Grey together, briefly it was true, but Gibbs was convinced there had been meaningful conversation between them.

"Good morning Agent Gibbs; I'm George Murdoch, the Warden here. Grey is at breakfast right now, we'll have him taken to an interview room directly. Can I ask, how is Agent McGee doing?"

"He's holding his own, and he's sure to do better when I tell him we've nailed Grey's ass to the wall."

Murdoch had been surprised when NCIS had requested visitation with Grey, he'd always been a model prisoner, and he'd been downright shocked when they'd filed a warrant for the surveillance pictures. He had been given some idea of what Agent McGee had been through…if Landon Grey was behind this crime, he deserved everything that was likely to be coming his way.

"Let me take you to the interview room, could any of you use some coffee, juice?"

"Coffee's always good Warden, thanks."

Twenty minutes later Gibbs was sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair in a drab room with metal mesh over the single small window high in the wall. His empty coffee cup had been set down on the floor, Ziva and Tony were standing either side of the table, they stood a little straighter when they heard footsteps coming closer.

'By the book, by the book…' Vance's words echoed through Gibbs head; they were close to the truth behind the threat to Tim, he could almost smell it, all he had to do was keep his hands away from Grey's throat.

Landon Grey walked along the unfamiliar corridor, a guard either side of him, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His heart was beating so fast, had been ever since the guards pulled him out of the line of prisoners filing back to their cells after breakfast. He'd glanced involuntarily in Jarrom's direction, but he was heading out of the dining hall with the other men from his wing. Who was here? There was no way they would allow a family visit, it had to be someone from NCIS, with McGee missing it was inevitable that given enough time they would get round to talking to him.

Landon took several deep breaths as the door was opened, he had to maintain control. "Agent Gibbs, long time no see."

Gibbs ignored the greeting and gestured for the guards to leave.

"We'll be right outside if you need us."

It wasn't likely he would, but Gibbs knew they had been ordered to wait outside and listen out for anything the warden wouldn't want happening in his prison.

"Sit down Grey, before I knock you down."

Landon had heard people talk about having the hairs on the back of their neck stand up, but he'd never felt it…until now. There was so much tension in the room the air seemed to be fizzing with electricity. He stumbled toward the chair, almost knocking it over as he tried to sit comfortably with the cuffs constraining his arms.

For what seemed an eternity no one spoke, then Gibbs leaned forward slightly. "You know why you're here Grey; tell us why you put out a contract on Special Agent McGee."

"What? How could I do that? In case you hadn't noticed I'm in prison."

"Oh, I noticed Grey…tell you what else we noticed." Gibbs placed an eight by ten print on the table. Landon stared at the picture and tried not to show the tremor of fear that had run through him. They'd already been looking at surveillance pictures, and there he was, side by side with Lester Jarrom.

"All I see is two guys out for a run."

"Really?" Gibbs' voice was ominously low. "I see a conspiracy to murder a Federal Agent."

"Murder…" Landon's heart leapt in a moment of triumph.

Tony picked up the picture. "Your running buddy, he has a real good friend on the outside, specialises in torture and murder, he got together with another sick bastard and they took my friend…stabbed him, tortured him…all because of you." He slammed the picture on the table and Landon flinched.

"What…what does that have to do with me?" Landon was torn between fear of what they might do to him and jubilation that McGr..McGee was dead.

"It has everything to do with you." Ziva took a step toward him and Landon flinched under the intense scrutiny of her gaze. "You took money from Melissa Grover, and handed it to your sister. That was low Grey, to involve your sister in this; I fear she will not do well in prison."

"Why should she go to prison? She hasn't done anything."

"She transferred money to offshore accounts; it is only a matter of time before we find out who she was paying. We know already why payment was made, and do not lie to me about lawyers Grey; after what I have seen today I would happily choke you with that lie."

Ziva was close enough for Landon to feel her breath on his face, she'd carry out her threat, he was sure of it There was so much pent up anger in this room, and something deeper too, Landon gasped as the reality of his situation hit him like a hammer blow in his gut. He was trapped in a room with three people who hated him; even if Li...Ziva didn't get him, the others would...he turned in panic to the door, but he knew enough about Gibbs and his team to know he'd be dead before he could cry out for help.

Gibbs had seen the fear, and he knew they had him. "Tell us Grey, you can't save yourself but you can help Jennifer. She had no idea why she was transferring the money did she? And Melissa, she gave you money because she loves you; she thought the money would help to have lawyers who could get you out of here."

"Then she's a deluded bitch! Have you seen her? No man in his right mind would want to be with her." Landon's voice had gone up an octave or two, and he could feel his stomach starting to churn, so soon…they were on to him so soon, wouldn't even give him a moment to enjoy the triumph that came with McGregor's demise.

"So it was all about the money."

"What else? She has pots of it, and she wanted to give it to me, I wasn't about to say no. It's not my problem if she's besotted with me."

"Do you think that'll be the case when she knows what you used the money for."

"If I never see her again it will be too soon, and it doesn't matter. McGee's dead...I'm not going to be a hypocrite and pretend I'm sorry, he's the reason I'm in here."

"Not true Grey, no one forced you to kill those men, that was all on you, and who said McGee is dead? He took everything Warren and Costero threw at him, and they threw plenty, but he never gave up, he fought against them with everything he had."

Landon's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he tried to fill his lungs with some much needed air. "Not…dead. You said…he was stabbed, tortured, you said…"

Ziva stepped back and viewed Landon Grey with contempt. "He was; you underestimated his strength, people do this because his strength is within, unless you know him well it is easy to overlook."

"No! He has to be dead…it's the only thing I wanted…to make my life bearable again."

Gibbs got up from his chair and stood ready to strike. "Your life! I don't give a damn about your life. You tried three times to have one of my people killed, and you talk to me about your miserable life." In two strides Gibbs was at Grey's shoulder.

"Boss."

"It's okay Tony; I'm not going to waste my energy on that pile of…" Gibbs glanced with contempt at the wet patch forming on Grey's pants. "You make me sick to my stomach Grey, I'm done with you." He turned to the others and they headed toward the door.

"Stop…Tibbs stop! You have to listen…you've got me all wrong, you know I wanted to help McGregor…then McGee…he got in the way, and it all went wrong…" Landon struggled from the chair, his legs felt like they belonged to someone else, he fell to his knees and begged. "Please Lisa…Tommy, make him see…It was all on McGee, he ruined everything…Agent McGregor…I was looking out for him…please…"

The three agents walked away without a backward glance. Whether Landon Grey was laying the ground for an insanity plea, or whether he really had relapsed didn't matter to them; he was guilty and he'd never be allowed to walk free, that was what mattered.

**13.45**

"I don't understand why you wanted to see my daughter again, I believe our attorneys made it perfectly clear, she has nothing to say."

Gibbs set a file on the conference room table and sat down. He was calmer than he had been since the dark hour when he got word of a potential problem at the safe house. They'd taken a quick detour to the hospital on the way back to DC, Tim was still unconscious but his heart rate was close to normal, and the doctor was talking about reducing the sedation within hours.

"I'm really not interested in what your daughter has to say Mr Grover. I just wanted to let her hear the truth about Landon Grey."

Melissa had been staring at the ground, refusing to make eye contact, but she raised her head and looked Gibbs right in the eye.

"Tell me what you like, I know the truth…you always hated Landon, framed him for those murders, and now he's getting close to the truth you're trying to silence him again."

"Melissa, I told you to say nothing."

"I am a grown woman Father; I will speak when I want. Agent Gibbs, I gave Landon money for an appeal, and I will give him every last cent I have if it will get him out of that hellhole…"

"He's not using the money for lawyers Ms Grover; he used it to hire hit men to kill Special Agent McGee."

"Him! He's the one who wrote that book…Landon wouldn't… you're wrong, he just wants to get out of there, to start a new life with me ; you've always hated Landon, he loves me!"

Gibbs opened the file and took out some photographs. "Get your head out of the clouds Ms Grover, he loves your money. You know what he did with the money you gave him for his appeal? He paid men to do this."

He laid out some of the pictures taken by the medical team at the hospital, showing in vivid detail some of Tim's injuries.

Melissa's hands flew to her mouth as she struggled to take a breath. "No…he…Landon he loves me…this can't be…"

At a signal from Gibbs Ziva clicked open her phone and played back the section of Grey's interview when he had revealed his true feelings toward Melissa. She fell into her father's arms sobbing uncontrollably. Joseph Grover held his daughter and let her cry. "That was cruel Agent Gibbs."

"Ya think? Why don't you both come along with us to Bethesda, I'll show you cruel."

**22.15**

"Then we went to see his sister, I think she pretty much knew what her whack-job brother was really capable of. Didn't take her long to cave…I even felt a little sorry for her, Melissa Grover too, they didn't deserve to be used the way they were."

"Don't waste your sympathy Tony, they're not likely to get any jail time, and maybe that's right. Landon seemed to have them in his control…and I'm convinced neither of them knew what the money was really meant for."

"You think we'll ever find the original shooter Boss?"

"Oh yeah…Vance has Cyber Crimes all over the bank accounts, we'll get him."

"And when we do Gibbs, I hope he runs…"

"Just so long as we get him off the streets Ziva; give Tim the chance to live a normal life again."

They turned again to their stricken team mate. Tim's family were getting some well-deserved sleep, secure in the knowledge that Tim's NCIS family would keep vigil. Abby, Ducky and Jimmy had been sitting with him while Gibbs and the others got some shut-eye of their own before taking on the night shift. Tim had woken briefly three times, but the pain meds had pulled him back under before he had chance to speak. His anxious watchers were content to let him rest, there were painful days ahead for him, and right now sleep was the best medicine.

**23.50**

"You see that? He's waking up…"

"Steady Tony…he needs the rest remember."

"B…Boss…" Tim's eyelids fluttered slightly and he turned his head to the direction of Gibbs' voice.

"Hey Tim…you're meant to be resting, but heck, it's good to see you."

"You…too…did I...Tony?"

"I'm here McSleepyhead, Ziva too."

"Did I dream…was Dad here?"

"He was, along with your mom and Penny, they're getting some sleep, it's late."

Tim tried to raise his head from the pillow and his breath hitched with the sudden pain. "Dirty…I'm so…they shouldn't see…"

"Stop it Tim! They cleaned you up, like I said they would."

Ziva stroked his forehead and whispered soothingly. "You worry over such foolish things McGee, your mother and father simply wanted to see you safe."

"Safe…I am…safe…" He glanced anxiously in Gibbs' direction. "Safe house…Rowan…Chloe…"

"Drugged coffee, knocked them out for a few hours; they're fine Tim, anxious to see you."

"No!" Tim's throat may have taken a battering, but he made sure they all heard that. "No…only…team, family…no one else…not like this…please Boss…"

"Okay Tim, whatever you want, take it easy now…rest."

Tim relaxed back on the pillow, all the time he'd been held he'd been scared that the two agents who'd been guarding him had been killed, to know they were safe too…

Gibbs settled back into his chair. "He'll sleep the night through; now he knows they're okay."

Tony shrugged and gave a crooked smile. "Typical McGee, never asked who was behind this."

"He will ask Tony, when he is ready." Ziva kissed Tim's forehead softly and settled back in her own chair, content to watch him sleep.

**Wednesday 25 July 2012**

"About time McTardy, lunch break is almost over."

"There was a line Tony, not my fault you chose the most popular take-out around."

Tim handed out the cartons and settled down at his desk with a smile; he'd missed all this, even Tony's comebacks, maybe he'd missed those most of all. During Tim's hospital stay Tony seemed to be so worried about saying or doing the wrong thing that he'd spent the whole time walking on eggshells.

They had been difficult days; Tim's recovery had suffered several setbacks, and the surgery on his broken fingers had to be delayed until his temperature was somewhere near normal and there was no chance of further infection.

Over the weeks and months that followed Tim had asked questions about the case, he hadn't been surprised that Grey was behind the attempts on his life, but he was surprised at how easy it seemed to be for someone in jail to reach out and do such harm

Cyber Crimes had come up trumps and traced the owner of the offshore bank accounts; Alan Lawrence, former Army sniper had been arrested at O'Hare International Airport on his way to catch a flight to Thailand. Much as Gibbs wanted him handed over to NCIS, he took a back seat when they discovered his gun had been used to kill an undercover FBI Agent. Lawrence was likely to face the death penalty and Gibbs for one wouldn't shed any tears.

Lester Jarrom and Elroy Dunkley would receive their punishment too. They were already serving life without parole, but their involvement in Grey's plan would ensure they would lose the few privileges they had. If they thought they were doing hard time before, they had the rest of their lives to figure they'd been wrong.

After spending some time in rehab, and out in San Diego with his family, Tim had returned to DC. A phased return to work had started with some short days at his desk, working up to full-time, and eventually after intense physical and psychological therapy, a return to field work.

On the face of it everything was back to normal, but the people closest to him saw the changes in Tim. He rarely joined them if they went for lunch or drinks with other agents, and if he did, he kept to himself, almost hiding away. Tony had done his best to show Tim that the only person who was bothered by his scars was Tim, but despite the fact that the only visible signs of his ordeal were the slight scars left by the burns on his hands Tim couldn't get out of his head the image he had of himself in the recording studio. His therapist was working with him, and he honestly felt he was getting better, but as everyone kept telling him, these things take time.

"Mmm, you were right Tony, that was good."

"Told ya! I'm right about other things too." Tony had been trying to convince Tim to ask Chloe Agyeman out, even if it was only for coffee, problem was, she'd been there when they rescued him, and she'd seen him, Tim couldn't get past that, not yet. "Hey Agyeman, what brings you over here?"

Tim almost dropped his coffee cup. He'd been savouring a few moments of relaxation and hadn't noticed her coming across to the MCRT desks. It had been tough avoiding her and Rowan since his return to NCIS, their desks were over the other side of the squad room, and the occasional meeting was inevitable, but so far he'd managed to keep everything on a work basis.

Chloe was carrying a tray laden with paper plates and a large chocolate cake. She smiled and Tim had a sharp pang as he remembered how he'd admired her smile, before…

"I thought you were on the crackerjack team around here Very Special Agent DiNozzo. It's Peter's birthday and we got cake for everyone."

"In which case, you are more than welcome."

She cut cake for everyone and handed out the plates. Tony noticed that she seemed to linger a moment longer at Tim's desk, but he wasn't taking the bait. As she started to head over to the other side of the squad room he hurried over to Tim's desk.

"Ask her, or I swear…"

"Don't even think about it Tony, for once just butt out!"

Chloe handed out the last of the cake and she started to walk slowly back to her work area…"Screw it, he can only say no."

"You say something Agent Agyeman?"

"Just giving myself a kick in the rear Agent Gibbs, I have something I need to do."

"Then don't let me stop you."

Gibbs stepped aside as Chloe increased her pace and strode over to Tim's desk. "McGee…Tim, I've been waiting patiently for you to ask me out, but you know, this is 2012, not 1912, so I don't see why I should sit like a wallflower waiting…" She stopped for a breath and suddenly became aware that the squad room had gone really quiet. Chloe laughed aloud. "Oh boy, I really messed up, what I had planned; it was a little more...subtle than this."

Tim was smiling, and blushing. "Hard to see how it could be less subtle Chloe. But I didn't hear a question."

She put her head to one side as if replaying what she'd said. "You're right, okay, here's my question. Tim, would you please go out with me? I'm not doing anything this weekend, if you're free."

"Maybe I should check with my social secretary, he seems to have my weekends pretty much planned."

Tony was grinning; at last someone had shown some sense. "Nothing that we can't do some other time, go for it Tim, from where I'm sitting it looks like you've got yourself quite a woman."

"Looks that way from here too Tony…Chloe…" Tim was sure he wanted to go out with Chloe, but suddenly his mind was filled with pictures he tried not to see.

"You're not going to turn me down now are you Tim?"

"I don't want to…but, you know, in the studio, you saw…I was…the filth, and I was helpless, couldn't get out…"

She moved closer to him and stooped down to look him in the eye. "Is that what's been holding you back? You were worried I'd think less of you because of that?" Chloe reached out for his hand and discovered he was trembling almost as much as she was. "What I saw…still see…is one of the bravest men I've ever met, they wanted you dead and degraded Tim, and you didn't give in…don't give Landon Grey even the tiniest hint of a victory, live your life to the full, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear." Regardless of the audience she knew they'd gathered, she gave him a quick hug, he responded in kind, and whispered. "Do we have to wait for Saturday? I'm not busy tonight…if you're free."

THE END


End file.
